Pure Agony
by keviana
Summary: The bad guys are back. And they want something. Badly. Broken doors, speeding cars, and explosions are sure to follow. What will the team do when they are faced with knives and needles? Warning: may cause tears, squeals, and the possibility of laughing up a liver. Caution advised. Sequel to "Face of Obedience." No pairings.
1. Alone

Pure Agony

Summary: Sequel to "Face of Obedience." The bad guys are back. No pairings.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles. If I did, G Callen would know what his first name is. True story.

Warning: I am a tease. I will throw you into this story and gradually answer your questions. I refuse to be nice and easy and give you all the information up front. You will feel lost as you read the first couple of chapters, but then you'll be "caught up." Okay? Okay.

* * *

><p>One year later…<p>

Chapter 1: Alone

4:47 A.M.

The night air was a balmy seventy degrees and the sky was clear, stars shining and the moon resting in a Cheshire cat smile sliver. A large, white, three-story, seven-thousand-plus square foot home sat in its landscaped yard of lush grass, trees, bushes, and flower beds. The home had no internal lights on, and no sounds came from within.

Far off to the north, in the Beverly Hills-type neighborhood, a dog was barking. The homes were a good hundred feet apart from each other, so no one cared. It was a quiet night. The sounds of cars were non-existent around the area. These homes were owned exclusively by the wealthy. In each direction, beyond the curving lines of Estate-sized homes, there were 10-feet-tall brick and stone walls that separated the community from the surrounding city. The neighborhood consisted of five huge blocks of pristine homes. The three-story house was not the largest on its block, but it held a summer-house charm that the other homes lacked in their modern exterior designs.

Movement between the palm trees and bushes alerted no one but the cat who sat watching from the tree. There was no light nearby. Seven shadows of the darkest black broke apart and blended in with the surroundings of the home. Two of the shadows moved for the back door while two headed for the front door, and the last three headed for the complex security system in place around the home.

* * *

><p>On the third floor of the large home, safe in her bedroom, a sound-asleep 16-year-old opened her eyes, instantly awake.<p>

She blinked once and looked towards her bedroom door, closed and locked. She exhaled heavily.

* * *

><p>G Callen walked from his home's kitchen to the living room, sipping the tea that he had made for himself half-an-hour ago. He had just finished working on the dead clock he had bought the weekend before, the clock's quiet ticking having returned with his diligent hard work. He was ready to read the Russian book he had been working on for ages. He assumed that in two or three months, he would have the large book finished. And, not only read, but understood.<p>

Just as he settled down, his iPhone went off from where it charged on the floor a few feet from him. He looked at it for a moment, before getting up quickly and picking it up. The phone showed that the caller was "Bagel." Callen narrowed his eyes slightly before picking up the call.

He spoke lowly, in a serious tone. "Bagel?"

The young female voice on the other end of the phone greeted equally lowly, "Rally."

Callen glanced at his watch. "Bagel, it's early."

"Don't really have a choice." She said, her voice catching. "They're here."

Callen straightened. His heart started beating faster. "Alarm?"

"Sorta. _He_ woke me up… The real one has been disabled. Callen, they are already in the house."

G started moving, grabbing his gun and keys while he spoke. "There's no question?"

"No question." She answered back, this time in a slightly fearful whisper.

"Get yourself to the safe area, just like we practiced." Callen ordered calmly. "Stay on the phone. Don't speak unless you have to. Turn on your video camera. Move!"

G could hear her start moving, her breathing becoming accelerated. He moved himself, racing out of his home, slamming it locked behind him. He jumped into his white 2011 Aston Martin Rapide and brought it to life. He pulled out of his driveway and raced toward her neighborhood at a reckless speed.

As he drove, G added a call to Eric Beale's cell phone. It rang twice before a groggy Eric answered.

"Hello?"

Callen didn't mask the urgency in his voice. "Eric, I need those cameras at the Garcia house up now!"

"Whoa…" Eric said, now rustling covers and breathing harder. "It'll take me few minutes to connect, Callen. I'm on it…"

Callen turned his car around a corner and gunned the engine again. "Get eyes and call me back." G didn't wait for a reply. He hung up on Eric and quickly dialed Sam's number.

It took three rings for the ex-SEAL to answer his phone. His voice held concern when he answered. "G?"

"Sam, its Joy. They are in her house." Callen said, keeping his calm so his partner wouldn't overreact.

Sam hesitated only for a moment. "I'm on my way. Don't do anything stupid."

Callen gave the darkness around him a grim smile. He hung up on Sam and said into the phone, "Bagel, if you're in the safe area, blow into the phone twice."

There was a pause and then Callen heard the faint air-noise on the phone twice as the teenage girl responded. He felt a bit of relief. If she was in the safe area, he had exactly seventeen minutes to get to her before anyone discovered her. That would be enough time to get her out if they had planned correctly…

He realized he was finally on a long, vacant stretch of highway. He accelerated to a speed that would make Hetty curse. Callen knew he was only a few minutes of high speed from her home, so he quickly went over everything that he knew to be facts.

Fact: Joy's father was on one of his trips out of the country. Joy was home alone. The house was defended by a serious security system. Fact: The invaders were good if they had disabled the serious security system. Fact: They probably had their own eyes in the area, if they were worth their beans. He had betted they had bugged her phone months ago. Hopefully, they hadn't realized that Callen had installed his own camera system in Joy's home. Fact: If they abducted her, she could lead them to the NCIS OSP team. Fact: He had had just as much time to plan for their strike as they had. Fact: He was a complete idiot for keeping in touch with Joy like he had. It went against all of his personal codes. If this went badly, it was his own damn fault. Fact: He was going to bring them down, no matter what. Okay, maybe that wasn't a fact, but he was certain he could do it.

He agreed with what Hetty had said one year ago: "There's nothing I dislike more than underestimating an opponent." As he sped the final two streets to the parking place he had picked out months ago, he prayed he hadn't underestimated these guys.

G spoke into his phone as he parked and silenced his car, "I'm coming to you now. Stay silent. Stay still. If they get to you before me, do like we practiced." He climbed out of the car, pausing to turn his phone's brightness level as low as he could. He checked his gun, and then rushed through the seven yards and three streets towards the Garcia home.

The night was thick. Callen dodged all of the motion-activated lights using the path he had specially picked out six months ago. Approaching the home, he slowed down and started moving even more stealthily toward Joy's home. He stopped among some landscaping when he was across the street from the three-story home.

G's trained agent eyes spotted a single watchman dressed in black on the Garcia house porch. There was a plateless, black van parked in front of the house, as well.

Callen's phone vibrated as another call came in. It was Eric calling him back. He placed Joy on hold and switched to it, crouching behind the set of bushes. "Go." He whispered into the phone.

"There are six in the house, Callen." Eric reported, "Two on the main floor, two on the second floor, two in the basement. They're all armed with a weapon I've never seen before. They are checking all hiding places…"

G exhaled. Then he said lowly, "Basement distraction, Eric?"

"Ready when you are."

"Do it."

"Activating."

G switched his phone call to Joy. "Bagel, get ready to start counting. When you get to one hundred, start your descent. If you understand blow twice on the phone."

He heard two breaths from her.

"Remember, don't look back…" G whispered into the phone.

Just then, Callen heard a small pop come from the house. The noise wasn't loud enough to alert the neighbors, but it was enough to move the man on the porch a little towards the front door. It was the diversion they had hidden in the basement. G knew that they would think someone was in the basement for a few seconds, right up to the point they realized that a disorienting gas had been released into the room. The plan had been hard to conceal from Joy's widowed father, but they had managed. He hoped it would serve its purpose now that the baddies had finally returned.

"Start counting." G whispered into the phone. He ended the call with Joy, switching back to Eric. "Eric?"

"Looks like we got two… The two on the second floor just split up. One's going downstairs. The two on the main floor are heading to the basement… Sam's calling me."

"Stick to the plan, Eric." G reminded quietly, before hanging up.

He pocketed his phone, and pulling out his gun, he took off. He ran behind the huge home to the left, crossing the street where it was a lower elevation, hiding him from the one on the porch and anyone who might be in the van. He quickly cut through backyard landscaping, climbing easily over one fence.

Staying focused, he worked his way through Joy's large backyard. He could see flashlights now, coming from deep in the house. Main and second floors. He moved from tree to bush to column, looking up to the third floor. More specifically, to the huge oak tree that was on the side of the house.

Finally, he saw a shine spot in the tree. The teenager was halfway down the oak and moving as quickly as she dared. Callen paused behind a fat Washington palm tree. He watched her descend for a few moments. They had practiced her climbing down the tree countless times, both in the dark and in daylight. He hoped that her adrenaline wouldn't cause her to mess up what she already had down.

He looked back at the house. The flashlights were no longer looking confused. They were headed for the third floor.

Callen moved for the bottom of the huge oak tree. He waited a mere fifteen seconds and Joy dropped down beside him, her white and pink pajamas highly visible in the dark. She was breathing hard, but took off exactly as he had taught her, running for her back fence, weaving through landscaping.

G followed her, keeping himself between the house and Joy, gun still in hand.

Joy squeezed through the back gate without making a sound, using the fake panel they had installed two months before. G followed her into the cement alleyway behind the homes. From there, G followed her into the space between two homes where the fences didn't touch, and then onto the street behind hers.

Callen felt his phone vibrate once, twice, three times, and then stopping. That was Eric. Telling him that they were now being followed. G moved faster, grabbing Joy's wrist as he passed her. He had to get her to his car before the bad guys found them. He pulled her through a backyard they had already scoped out. Callen heard the dogs waking up back near Joy's home. They were definitely being pursued.

As they came out on the other side of the yard, they picked up the pace again and ran toward G's car which was five-hundred feet ahead.

Suddenly, the black van came screeching around the corner driving head-on towards them, headlights on.

"Plan B." Callen breathed out, pulling her into the tree-filled yard they were passing. They headed for the alley again.

"Callen!" Joy yipped and pushed him sideways as they ran, keeping him from the middle of the alley.

Small whizzing sounds passed by them and pinged off of metal trash bins. G realized they were being shot at by weapons that weren't guns. Plan B wasn't going to work if they couldn't reach the end of this alley without being tagged.

The Agent pulled the teenager into a yard that had no fence and headed for the street that Joy's home had been on. As they rounded the home, a few more pings following them as they ran in the dark, Callen turned them abruptly toward the largest home on the block. He had no choice, but ran them towards the massive structure.

"Plan C, Bagel." He said as quietly as he could as they ran. "Don't stop until you're there. Wait until Sam comes."

Beside him, he saw her nod and set her focus towards the mansion before them.

"Go." Callen hissed, slowing his pace, while Joy took off, running faster.

Callen didn't watch her. He turned back and ran towards the closest cover across from the direction he knew the enemy was coming from.

Breathing hard, he took aim. When the black shadows came around the corner, he fired his weapon twice, aiming for their shoulders. He hit both of them, stopping them in their tracks. More dogs started barking.

He heard a sound coming from the left. G turned to find two more shadows weaving through the darkness towards him. He aimed. A few whizzing sounds flew by him on both sides, dangerously close.

One came into his sights and he fired. He hit the shadow, and it fell with a small cry.

There was a sound behind him.

G whirled around, ready to fire.

But he didn't get a chance. He was hit in the chest.


	2. Sacrifice

Chapter 2: Sacrifice

5:04 A.M.

Sam Hanna accelerated his sleek, black Challenger upwards of eighty miles-per-hour on the mostly-deserted highway. His face was set in a scowl. His iPhone was ringing on speakerphone as it worked to place the phone call he had made seconds before.

He didn't like this. Not one bit. He still disagreed with Hetty not informing Joy's father about the danger his daughter might be in before he left the country on his latest trip. Sam understood the mindset of most fathers, wanting to both protect and be in the know, so he was frustrated at how the NCIS OSP was deliberately using Mr. Garcia's daughter as bait in their plan to expose the undercover group that had infiltrated their team one year ago.

The OSP knew the kid had been watched for the last seven months. Joy had been in contact with his partner G Callen ever since she had taken a bullet for him. He had been the first one she told whenever she had noticed that she was being watched. The undercover group hadn't seemed to know anything about the NCIS OSP team being the ones that had taken down their agent. All they seemed interested in was the teenage girl. The same teenage girl that Hetty had made a Civilian Informant, Joy Garcia.

Hetty and Callen had had one of their pow-wows and decided that the best course of action was to use this situation to the advantage of the United States Government. They would keep tabs on Joy, and whenever the bad guys moved to snatch her, they would thwart and expose them. Sam knew that, secretly, G had decided that he would protect the girl from these baddies, with or without Hetty's assistance. Hetty's decision to create a complex plan, ready for when the bad guys returned, had left G working hard to prepare Joy and her house without her father knowing.

OSP Tech Operator Eric had them calling the secret organization "Thorn," for the symbol that they wrote as their name: the small, Latin letter thorn. Hetty hadn't dissuaded him, and Eric's assistant, Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones, had said it was "spiffy," so Thorn it was.

And now, Thorn had returned.

"Hello?" Eric's voice answered over speakerphone.

"Catch me up, Eric." Sam said, almost barking out.

"Plan A is in motion, Sam. We count seven intruders over the video cams. Callen activated the basement diversion."

"The GPS?"

"Working perfectly." Eric reported. "Both Callen's and Joy's. I'll be able to locate them within three feet."

"Great." Sam accelerated the Challenger. "I'm about two minutes out. Keep tabs on G. Let me know if the plan changes."

"Sure…" There was a pause from Eric. "Sam, they are on the move… And Thorn is following. Ringing Callen now."

"Stay with them, Eric." Sam commanded. "And don't forget to wake Kensi and Deeks."

"On it!"

There were a few minutes of silence, before Eric suddenly blurted, "Callen's moving away from his car!"

Sam let out a frustrated breath and guided his car through the streets that led to Joy's home. He knew something like this would happen. G was too trouble-prone for this plan to go off without a hitch.

"I think Callen's trying to get Joy to one of the hiding spots, Sam." Eric informed. "They are on Joy's street, north about five homes."

"Got it, Eric!" Sam responded, his heart starting to pound in his chest. He wished he was at G's side already, protecting his partner. "Keep an eye on G!" He drove his car into the neighborhood.

"Shots fired, Sam!" Eric called out, voice full of concern. "One of the neighbors just called nine-one-one."

As Sam sped onto Joy's street, he saw a dark shadow up ahead dart into a cluster of small trees. Sam turned the car furiously on the street, headlights dancing into the trees as he skidded to a halt.

The large ex-SEAL felt his breath catch with panic as he saw his partner's lifeless body being hefted by a person dressed in black body armor and black mask.

"They're takin' G!" Sam yelled at Eric.

With a smooth motion he grabbed his gun and opened the car door. He climbed out and pointed his gun at the one holding his partner.

He swallowed down the normal "NCIS! Freeze!" line that he usually used since Hetty had warned them all away from giving away hints to their identities. Instead he raged at the figure, _"Let him go!"_

The person that held Callen froze, black mask facing him, obviously surprised to find a gun leveled at their head.

Just then, Sam heard a whizzing sound, followed quickly by a nasty sharp pain in his upper back, directly over his left shoulder. Sam whirled around to face his attacker, but just as he made it to look behind him, his world went black.

* * *

><p>From his living room, surrounded by the blue glow of three computer screens and a hand-held computer, Eric Beale listened anxiously to Sam yell at the Thorn agents that had Agent Callen. Eric watched on one of the screens what the Challenger's video camera was able to pick up with the car's headlights. The image on the screen was fuzzy, but he could make out a figure holding onto an unconscious Callen, tense and undecided about what to do.<p>

Everything became silent. Eric knew something had happened to Sam when the figure that held Callen started moving again as if he had no deterrents.

A male voice came across the speakers. "Turn off the car!"

Another male voice, this one having a British accent, answered, "Where's the girl?"

The original voice answered calmly, "She's gone. Take him. Leave this one. We'll keep watch. The girl will surface again."

The sound of someone getting into the car and turning it off came across the speakers.

Eric held his breath and started typing wildly on the handheld computer in his grasp. He had just finished entering the code for a phone burn for both Callen and Sam's iPhones, when he heard one of the men say, "Look!" Eric didn't wait and burned both phones, losing his audio in the process.

Taking a deep breath, Eric then simultaneously dialed Kensi's cell phone and typed in the code for the Challenger to "panic" in an unstoppable manner. The handheld computer rang as it tried to wake Kensi. Eric smiled grimly as he imagined how the bad guys were having to scatter because Sam's car was now waking all the neighbors with its alarm. He had programmed it himself; not even Sam's keys would turn off the alarm. It was satisfying.

Kensi answered her phone, "Yeah?"

"Kensi, Thorn is back." Eric said, skipping his greeting.

"What?" Kensi said, then following her question with her another question, "Tonight?"

"Um, _technically,_ this morning, but, yes." Eric looked back at one of the computer screens. Agent Callen's GPS was moving; Agent Hanna's was not. "Kensi, Thorn is taking Callen. Joy has been hidden. I think Sam is down."

"Ugh. Okay, I'm up." Kensi said, now completely awake. Her breathing had accelerated as if she was moving around. "I'm on my way. Did you already call LAPD?"

"Yes."

"And Deeks?"

"No."

"I'll get him." Kensi huffed. "And Hetty?"

"I'm calling her next."

"I sure hope she and Callen know what they're doing." Kensi muttered, her keys jingling in the background. "Stay on it, Eric."

"Like peanut butter." Eric assured.

"Hah! Bye." Kensi hung up.

Eric started dialing Hetty, pausing only to be sure that he could see both Sam and Callen's GPS readings.

Hetty answered her cell phone with calm, "Yes, Mr. Beale?"

"Hetty," Eric said, pausing just for a moment, "Thorn."

Hetty didn't hesitate. She simply uttered a soft, "Ah-hah." She sighed, and then asked, "Has the plan been enacted?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Everyone has been awakened?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"What about Miss Jones?"

Eric froze. "Well… I, ah…"

"Wake her and get her to the office, Mr. Beale. She is a most excellent backup set of eyes. I cannot express how important it is that we stay one step in front of this organization. Finish being support there, then get yourself to your natural habitat."

"Yes, Hetty." Eric said, nodding as if she could see him.

"Keep me apprised." Hetty reminded him. Then she hung up her phone.

Eric exhaled as he dialed Nell's number.

His mind played back what Kensi had said. He echoed the sentiment. This seemed like a very dangerous op to flush out a secret organization. What if the organization turned out to only be three or four individuals large? What if one of the NCIS team was hurt? Would the payoff be worth it?

He wasn't sure.

* * *

><p>Sam woke up, feeling dizzy. And his head hurt. Like he had banged it on something.<p>

He realized quickly where he was and what he had been doing. He was lying on the street next to his Challenger. His car was actually adding to his headache as it was cycling through its impossibly loud alarm. The sky was just beginning to light with dawn. He hadn't been out for more than five minutes.

His hand traveled to his head, trying to dispel the dizziness. He had been shot with something strong while trying to get Thorn to leave G.

_G. Oh no._ Sam thought, struggling to get up. His head throbbed as he pushed himself up to his feet. He had definitely hit his head going down.

The world spun slightly as he steadied himself against the screaming Challenger.

When things steadied enough, he moved to where G had been. To his chagrin, his partner was nowhere to be found. Sam's head throbbed faster as his heart quickened. Panic was seeping into his thoughts.

He knew he shouldn't panic. Even if they _had_ taken G, Hetty had accounted for that possibility and placed a GPS tracker on him. These guys had no reason to kill the one they had found protecting the girl they were after. They had no idea NCIS was a part of this. Thorn had given up that little fact the first time they had tried to snatch Joy at the Santa Monica mall. They had failed in more ways than one, mostly due to what questions and comments they had asked the girl. Hetty, herself, had interrogated Joy, wanting to know everything she remembered about the would-be kidnappers. Thorn didn't know who had killed their agent, and, apparently, hadn't known where their woman agent was for the three months she was undercover at NCIS OSP Headquarters. But, somehow, they had known that Joy was the last one who had seen their agent alive. Eric had hypothesized that the woman had sent the teen's photo to one of her Thorn friends on that "day of death" one year ago. It explained why they were trying to get Joy. Thorn knew the girl had answers, and they wanted answers. Sam just hoped earnestly that they didn't rough up G trying to get their answers.

Sam moved slowly to find his cell phone. He needed to check in with Eric and find out where they were at. Climbing into the Challenger that was still going through its alarm, he looked at the center cup holder, where his phone had been last. It was still there.

He grabbed it and instantly tried to wake it to call Eric. He nearly groaned when it didn't respond to his button-pushing. His phone had been burned. It was great for keeping information out of bad guy hands, but terrible when someone needed to place a call. Sam put the phone back.

He looked at his dashboard, willing both the car and his head to be silent so he could remember what he was supposed to be doing.

He was relieved to find the keys still in the ignition of his car. Now, if only Eric would release his car back to him before LAPD got to the scene. This was downright embarrassing. Effective, yes, but absolutely pride-reducing. G would be smirking if he hadn't just been taken.

The slight panic returned. He needed to get moving so he could go free his partner.

Sam glanced up and down the neighborhood, scanning for signs of Thorn. Lights were beginning to come on in random windows. People were waking up and wondering why there was a Challenger in the middle of the street going berserk. But, no Thorn.

Deeks was going to have to do some heavy liaising to get the LAPD to keep the word "NCIS" out of reports. No doubt Hetty would have to help him.

Sam exited his car, walking around to stand in front of the hood. He gave a 'thumbs-up' in the blinking headlights' illumination, hoping that Eric was still monitoring the Challenger's video feed.

It took five seconds, but the car fell silent, the neighborhood's quiet becoming heavy in the alarm's absence.

Sam climbed back into the car and started it. It came to life. He closed the driver's door and drove slowly to where he knew his partner had hidden the teen: in a large, fake rock amid the landscaping beside the largest mansion on the block.

Callen had worked hard to create three good hiding places among the houses that made up Joy's community. This hiding spot had been the one G had run for from what Eric had described to him.

Sam climbed out of his car and walked up to the rock, trying to be quiet. He got close to the rock and said lowly, "Joy? It's Sam. I'm getting you out. We need to go."

Agent Hanna worked to get the door in the side of the rock to open. When it finally did, Sam saw the girl sitting very still, arms around her knees, inside.

He waited for a moment for her to look at him or say something, but she wasn't acknowledging him. Sam worried that perhaps she had been hit with a tranquilizer, too. After a few moments, he realized that she _was_ moving. She was shaking. "Come on. It's safe." He said gently, putting down a hand to help her up.

A few more seconds passed, and then she asked quietly, "Password?"

Sam easily told her, "Tennis." He had forgotten that G had told her to always ask for the password if she was afraid. The poor kid hadn't been completely warned about all the possibilities that could've happened with Thorn's second attempt to kidnap her. He was glad that she wasn't crying hysterically. Especially after she'd heard G fire his weapon. Especially since the last time she'd heard gunfire, she'd been shot.

She put out a petite hand and took his, climbing out of the rock slowly. Her shoulder-blade-length brown hair looked jet black in the wisps of dawn. When she turned her face up to look at him, Sam realized that he had been wrong. She had tear-stains on her face.

"You're hurt." She said quietly.

"I'm fine." Sam assured her lowly. "Are _you_ hurt?" He questioned, looking her up and down.

She shook her head and hugged herself. She shivered.

Sam closed the fake rock's door before he motioned for her to lead them to the car. Joy stepped lightly through the landscaping and climbed into the back seat of the Challenger, her regular spot the seven or so times she had ridden in Sam's car. Usually, G Callen had been in the passenger seat.

The Senior Agent opened the trunk and pulled out his leather jacket. He closed the trunk and then returned to the driver's seat, closing the door. "Here." He said, passing the jacket back to her.

The sixteen-year-old took it gratefully, mumbling a small 'thank you.' Joy draped the jacket over herself tiredly.

Sam put the car in drive and took off, hoping that he would be able to make it out of the area before LAPD arrived.


	3. Pursued

Chapter 3: Pursued

5:54 A.M.

When Sam didn't hear any additional sounds from Joy once she settled down, he switched his focus from slight concern for her to the panic for his partner. The panic wasn't over-powering, but it was loud. It thumped in his chest with his heart. The sight of G being held, unconscious, by the Thorn agent had bothered Sam. The only way he could calm down was to remind himself that Hetty had a plan.

Driving onto the highway closest to the girl's house, Sam saw the LAPD zip past in the opposite direction, heading toward the neighborhood. He pressed his lips together and accelerated, simultaneously looking for tails in his rearview mirror. He would take the most elaborate way to the Boat House, but he wouldn't drive all the way up to it, per the plan. Kensi would meet him a few blocks away to take Joy. After the exchange, he would be free to track down Thorn through the GPS locator that Hetty had put in G's watch.

_I hate this._ Sam thought to himself angrily. Anytime his partner was separated from him, bad things seemed to happen. Sure, Hetty had planned for the circumstance of Callen being taken, but she wasn't all-knowing about everything. This could end so many ways. Sam didn't want G to be injured this time.

Agent Hanna allowed himself to remember the crazy "day of death" once more. Between the drive-by shooting, the exploding SUV, Callen's fall, the hospital visit, and the shooting at NCIS Headquarters, he wasn't up for anymore tricks from undercover operatives who played assassin. _These guys lay a hand on G again, they're toast. _Sam thought harshly.

Just then, Sam caught view of a black car ducking out of his line-of-sight in his rear-view mirror. His breath caught for a moment. He watched carefully. The black car would come into view around turns in the road, and then back off. It swerved a little whenever another car came between them. _Nice. _Sam thought to himself sarcastically.

They had a Thorn tail.

And he would have to lose them without Eric's help.

Sam allowed himself a grim half-smile. _Old school._

The roads were filling with other vehicles due to the morning rush-hour getting started. He was going to have to play this one smart. He didn't want to be the one responsible for any early-morning wrecks.

As soon as he was sure that the black car couldn't see him for a moment, the ex-SEAL accelerated his Challenger, weaved through some cars, and turned quickly onto an exit ramp. At the end of the ramp, Sam took the U-turn to head in the other direction.

He watched carefully for signs that the tail had been able to follow him.

After six more turns, two lights, and one highway stretch, Sam was confident that he wasn't being followed. He wasn't so certain about being tracked, however. He couldn't assume that the Challenger hadn't been given a tracking chip while he was unconscious on the pavement. He sighed. He would have to take extra precautions until he knew for certain his car was clear.

All he knew now was he would be late to meet up with Kensi. Another set of minutes that he wouldn't be saving his partner. It unnerved him.

* * *

><p>In the Challenger's backseat, Joy felt the sadness and the fear for her friend boiling up inside her again .<p>

She burrowed deeper into Sam's jacket. The chill had first settled over her when she had heard gunfire. She didn't know whether G had been shot or if he was okay, and it scared her. He had been protecting her.

_**He's fine.**_

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to listen. After all the nightmares, after all the training, after all the planning, precautions, and sleepless nights, this happened. G Callen, taken in her place.

G had said there was nothing to worry about. Nothing. Everything was "just in case, don't worry about it." Had he lied to her? _Rally… No..._

Suddently, the last time she had seen these bad guys flashed through her mind, making her feel even colder.

It had been in the daylight.

_The youth pastor had disappeared from her sight. As had all of her friends. She didn't feel worried, this mall was huge and she usually lagged behind a bit when she was tired, like she was now. There were people everywhere. Of all the days to come to the mall, they had chosen a Saturday. They were nuts._

_Suddenly, a man with dark hair came out of nowhere on her left and was shoving a photo in front of her. She was so surprised that she didn't realize his buddies were behind her and at her right side._

"_Do you know this woman?" The man asked her, voice bearing a strange accent. _

_She tried not to over-react to this stranger suddenly being in her personal space. She glanced at the picture. It was of a lady with blonde hair. "No. Sorry." She said politely, trying to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible so she could rejoin her friends. She felt creeped-out by this guy._

"_Please," The man pleaded in a non-threatening way. "Look again. We think you were the last person to see her alive."_

_She realized then that the man wasn't alone, and that he and his friends were much bigger than she was. As her heart started beating faster, she did what she was asked. Looking again at the woman in the picture, she tried to remember if she knew her._

_The man added, "We just have some questions…"_

_At that moment, she realized that she _had_ seen this woman before. It shocked her to remember meeting eyes with this woman, who had been a brunette then, during her time with the secret government Agents at their headquarters. It became hard to breathe as she realized that she might be in grave danger._

_She had seen this woman on the day she had been shot. On the same day she had met G Callen._

_The men must've seen the recognition in her eyes, because the one flanking her right side took her upper arm with his large hand and said lowly, "Come with us." His voice was gravelly._

_Her adrenaline kicked in. She was in a public place and she just needed to get away from these guys long enough to call Callen. He would know what to do. _

_She took a quick breath and started yelling at the top of her lungs, "FIRE! FIRE! HELP! FIRE!"_

_Everyone immediately looked in their direction. The men were distracted long enough for her to make a break for it. She yanked away from the men and ran in the direction she had last seen her group go, ducking between people as she ran. She hurriedly pulled her phone from her back pocket as she ran, desperate to call the only one who would know what she was talking about. _

_Up ahead she saw her youth group hanging around a store's entrance, laughing and kidding with each other. When she saw her youth pastor, she ran straight for him, praying that the three men were not still behind her. He looked up as she was getting close and put out a hand to slow her. She ran up to him and then moved herself behind him, breathing hard, looking for the men in the direction she had come from._

"_Joy, what's wrong?" Her youth pastor demanded, seeing the panicked look on her face._

_She didn't see the men following her. She looked up at his eyes and burst into tears, fear of being forced to go with those men overwhelming her. She went to her knees. Her youth pastor went down with her and kept trying to get her to speak. She ignored him and, through tears, dialed Callen._

_Her three girl friends had noticed she was crying and came to her side, pushing up against her, knowing something was terribly wrong. _

_There were three rings before his voice came over the phone: "Joy?"_

_She forced out the words, "Some men just… tried t-to take me with them." _

_Her youth pastor, her friends, and G heard her all at the same time. Her youth pastor became instantly angry, demanding where they were, standing up and looking in the direction she had come from. Her friends were aghast, clinging to her tighter. Some of them murmuring disbelieving words. _

_G was the only one whose words brought her relief: "I'm on my way."_

_She nodded to the phone, trying to get control of her tears. She kept the phone to her ear and leaned into one of her friends, suddenly tired. Memories of being in the hospital after being shot were flooding back to her at a crazy pace. She could almost feel the pain again. It haunted her, the countless hours she had endured of pain to regain the full movement of her shoulder. She was afraid of having to go through anything like that ever again._

_G's voice came, his calm instructions bringing her back to reality, "I hear the people with you. This is going to sound cold, but for me to get you out of there, I need you to do this: convince them you'll be alright and get your group to walk you to whatever exit you want to, tell them your ride's coming. Sam and I will pull up. Tell them we are a couple of your Dad's friends if they ask. Run to the car as fast as you can. We'll go from there."_

"_Okay." She answered gratefully, beginning to pull herself together, pushing herself away from her friends, and rising to her feet._

"_Tell them you don't want to call the police." G said._

_Feeling a new boldness, Joy turned to her youth pastor, who was talking to his wife that had just returned from the store they were outside of. "We're not calling the police." She said, as if answering what he had just said._

_He and his wife looked at her, confused. "Yes, we are." He replied. "You have to make a report."_

"_No, I don't." She said, standing her ground, even though everything inside of her wanted to make him happy and do what he wanted. "My ride is coming. I might've been mistaken about those men's intentions… Will you please take me outside?" _

"_Good girl." Callen said lowly over the phone she still held to her ear._

_Her youth pastor studied her. She stared back at him unwaveringly. _

_He seemed to be calculating if she was really alright or if this was some sort of act. "Are you sure?"_

"_I'm sure." She told him, managing a confident voice. "Can we go now?"_

_The youth pastor and his wife traded glances, then his wife stepped forward to place a hand on Joy's shoulder. "If that's what you want and won't regret it later, then let's go."_

Joy took a shuddering breath, bringing her back to where she sat in the back of Sam's car, clinging to his jacket in the dawn light. She had been so relieved to see this car in the mall's parking lot.

Tears formed in her eyes again.

She remembered the patience and determination in Callen's eyes and the concern in Sam's as she had climbed into the Challenger that day. She hadn't felt safe until she was with them. Of course, the hundreds of questions had started at that point and lasted until late that night, both from Callen and from the little boss lady, Miss Lange. She had been so tired that night, she had fallen asleep in Sam's car on the drive to her home.

The following weeks were just as tiring. Between her schoolwork and normal life activities, Callen began setting up "precautions" around her home and neighborhood—which had to be done away from her father's sight— and had her train with Kensi in self-defense. He also taught her how to climb the tree on the side of her house in the light of day or in the dark, both with shoes and without. Slowly, her nightmares of being kidnapped faded. As did her fear.

But, the memories hadn't faded. The memories of _before_. When she had been shot from behind, saving his life. G Callen's life. She remembered being in the hospital waiting for Callen. Nate had said he would come, so she had spent the quiet time praying for him and for herself. God had told her something during that time that had upset her so much she had cried until G had arrived. She had managed to forget the words until tonight.

_**He will give himself up for you.**_

Her breath caught as the tears began to fall now, unstoppable. Joy pressed Sam's jacket to her face, trying to mask her sobbing noises.

_He did it… Callen did what God said he would… He fought them back so I would have time to hide… Is he even alive?... Oh, Rally… It should've been me…_

Joy lost herself in her tears.


	4. Panic

Chapter 4: Panic

7:15 A.M.

Kensi tapped her fingers on her steering wheel, irritation and concern pumping through her. Everything she was feeling made her hungry for the Skittles she had stashed under her SUV seat. She scowled out the windshield instead of reaching for them. Sam was late. It bothered her inner-most being almost as much as the fact that Callen had been taken by Thorn. She brewed on that scary thought. This _had_ to be the craziest, most risky, stupid-nuts plan that Callen and Hetty had _EVER _concocted together. Kensi exhaled and tapped more.

From beside her, Marty Deeks watched her, not hiding his gaze. Worry for his partner filled him. She was strong, he knew, but he didn't want to test those limits; such as, waiting over an hour for Sam to appear with the girl Callen had been protecting. If Sam didn't arrive soon, Kensi might do something drastic. Eric's voice from before on speakerphone echoed in Deeks' mind: _"Sam's all right, but Thorn has Callen… Callen looked unconscious… Thorn didn't find Joy."_ He was impressed that Kensi was holding it together as well as she was. He wasn't. It's just, he wasn't moving around to dispel his worry like Kensi. Callen had been taken. _The_ Agent Callen. Callen being taken hostage by bad guys hadn't happened since he had been made the liaison between the NCIS OSP Team and LAPD. He had thought it wasn't possible. He still didn't think it was. He half-expected Eric to call and tell them that Agent Callen had escaped in some amazing way and brought two of the Thorn Agents in for questioning while at it. The man was legit. These Thorn guys were the business if they managed to keep Callen in their custody.

Kensi bit her lip, forcing her tapping to stop. She was driving herself up the wall. She looked at her partner. His blue eyes were watching her, looking tired from their early morning, and concerned about her. She stared at him, realizing that he had been staring at her for awhile. She asked shortly, "What?"

Deeks kept his eyes steady. "They're fine as far as we know." He said slowly. "Eric will tell us if there's anything else we need to do."

Kensi paused in her upset thoughts. She didn't want Deeks to be right, but he was. She needed to calm down. She sighed, looked away from him, and went for her Skittles.

Wondering what she was digging out from under her driver's seat, Deeks asked, "What?"

Kensi came up, King-Sized package of Skittles in her hand.

As she opened them, Deeks spluttered, "What? You're tasting the rainbow? Now?"

She shrugged innocently and chowed down on a handful.

He watched her, disbelieving, "How can you eat at a time like this? Kensi."

She ignored him and poured herself another handful.

Marty wrinkled his forehead and held out a hand pathetically, "Can't I at least join you? I haven't eaten either."

She shook her head 'no,' allowing herself to be distracted by the fruity-goodness of the chewy candy. She let out a low, long, "Mmmmmmmm." Months ago, she had decided she would never share her snacks with her partner… At least, not until he learned to be nice first and accuse later.

"Aw, come on. Kensi." Deeks pulled out the puppy-dog look he knew would melt her eventually. "Come on… We're partners. We share."

Kensi dramatically poured herself another handful, making sure her partner could see every single, colorful, round piece drop into her palm. She paused, looking at his expectant stare with her mismatched eyes for effect. Then, she took the whole handful and stuffed them in her mouth, allowing a small satisfied look over her features. Just to provoke him further.

Marty pulled back. "You are so mean." He said, looking away and then looking back. "I don't even know why we're partners, since letting me starve seems okay to you."

Kensi poured another handful, examining them in her hand, giving him a glance to make sure he was still watching. When she was sure he was watching her fully, she tilted her head back, opened her partially-full mouth, and dropping half of them in.

Deeks shook his head slowly at her. "If you choke, I'm not saving you."

At that moment, Kensi's iPhone rang. They both looked down at it, in the SUV phone dock. Eric's name showed.

Kensi reached over with the hand that held the Skittle packet and used her pinky to answer the phone. The phone went immediately to the SUV speakers. Kensi was still chewing on her candy, but she managed a "Yeah?" through the full mouth.

Marty looked at her in disbelieving awe.

"Miss Blye," Nell's voice came over the speakers, surprising them both. "Eric had me do a rush setup on that backup iPhone you carry in your car. I'm finished. Just give it to Agent Hanna and he will be able to use it for all the normal stuff, and _we_ will be able to track _him_."

"Nice." Kensi said, her mouth mostly cleared. "Any idea where Sam is, Nell?"

Nell Jones was silent for a moment, before replying, "His Challenger is two streets away from you. You should see him in seconds."

"Fan-tast-ic." Deeks said, looking at his partner. She gave him a raised eyebrow. He smiled smugly at her. "Those frozen breakfast burritos at the Boat House are closer than I thought."

Kensi stared at him for a moment, then popped another Skittle in her mouth. "Thanks, Nell." She said around her chewing.

"Yoooou're welcome." Nell replied. The information analyst ended the call.

Kensi and Deeks stared at each other, Kensi chewing and Deeks conjuring up a sweet smile, as if her attitude didn't bother him.

They both heard Sam's car pull up next to them. Kensi broke eye contact to be sure that everything was good. It was definitely Sam with Joy, so she opened her car door.

Getting out, Kensi muttered, "Kindergarten."

"Selfish." Deeks shot back, staying seated.

Kensi quickly retrieved the cell phone and it's components from her trunk as Sam was helping Joy out of his back seat quickly. She brought the small bundle to Sam, who was helping Joy put on his huge jacket.

Sam was bent slightly, to be more Joy's height, as he tugged the jacket closed around her. "Just keep it for now." He was saying lowly. The girl nodded once, looking down, her dark brown hair hiding her face from them. "You need to go with Kensi, okay?" Sam added, as if he were talking to a small child. He straightened, about to step back.

Kensi and Sam were both surprised when the teen moved toward Sam, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. They traded a quick glance at each other, Sam bringing his hands to her back and arm, ready to pry her away from her if he needed to.

Her muffled voice stopped him, "Are you going after Rally, Sam?" They heard the tears in her voice.

Sam answered her gently, not allowing the concern he felt for his partner to color his words, "Yeah. I'm going to bring him back."

"Be careful, Sam." She said, squeezing him once more and then stepping back from him, looking down, her hair covering most of her face. "…Don't get taken, too… Please…"

Sam stared at the girl for a moment before leaning towards her again, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Look at me." He commanded. When she lifted her tear-stained, ruddy face, he met her eyes and told her, "Don't be afraid."

She nodded, bringing up a hand to wipe her face.

Sam ushered her over to Kensi's SUV and opened the back door. He made sure she climbed in completely before closing the door behind her.

Kensi stared at Sam as he turned to her and took the phone kit she held out to him. "You okay?" She asked, noting the dried blood on the side of his head and the slight bruise formed there.

Sam nodded, quickly taking the phone out of the case. "I don't know if the Challenger is being tracked or not, yet, so you guys take precautions." He told her. "I'm going after G."

"Per the plan, Sam?" Kensi asked him, suddenly concerned that when Sam found Callen, he wouldn't wait for backup to come before attempting to free him.

Sam looked up at her and moved back to the driver's side door of his Challenger. "Maybe." Sam said, getting into the black car.

Kensi frowned. A 'maybe' from Sam was better than nothing. He and Callen were like brothers, and this had to be stressing Sam out more than it was her. She watched Sam pull his car away and accelerate back onto the streets. She exhaled forcefully. This stupid plan was getting in the way again. She had wanted to climb into the Challenger with Sam to go rescue Callen and stop Thorn with some vengeance. Instead, she and her partner would be on babysitter detail until further notice.

She climbed back in the driver's side of her SUV and shut the door, alarmed when her partner's singing greeted her. Deeks was finishing the line of a song about all the rain drops being lemon drops and gum drops and oh, what a rain that would be, when Kensi gave him a look.

Deeks stopped and shrugged. "I was trying to get her to smile."

Kensi turned around in her seat and saw that Deeks had been partially effective. Joy was sniffling back tears, wiping up the wetness on her face, with a small smile on her lips. Kensi looked back at her partner. "Don't do that again. Ever."

Marty looked at Joy and then back at Kensi. "You mean never?"

"I mean ever, like forever ever. 'Kay?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Okay. You need to finish the cheering-up process, then. I suggest ice cream."

Kensi balked, "At seven-thirty in the morning?"

Deeks looked at her mischievously, "It'd be healthier than, say, Skittles."

Kensi glared at him.

He smiled and turned back to look at Joy, "What do you think, Joy? Ice cream for breakfast?"

Joy answered, sounding more together and less teary, "Um… Can I vote for Starbucks, instead? Please?"

Marty looked disappointed. "Aw. Where's the adventure?"

Kensi turned around in her seat and started her SUV, saying, "Good call, girl. Starbucks it is."

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Kensi looked around fully to account for each and every car that was within eyesight. She accelerated into traffic keeping track of them all.

Deeks was helping her, she knew, from how quiet he had become. He was concentrating on their surroundings.

They had traveled for less than five minutes when Joy broke the silence, "Kensi?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Is… um… Is…" Joy began and then became silent.

Kensi looked at her in the rearview mirror. The teenager looked heavy in thought. "Is what, Joy?"

The girl finally got it out: "Is Callen alright?"

Marty looked at Kensi when she opened to answer and then stopped. The Detective looked back at Joy.

Joy looked at him with hopeful brown eyes.

Deeks exhaled and glanced at Kensi, silently urging her to answer the girl so he wouldn't have to.

Kensi finally said, "I don't know, Joy." She stared out at the street, her eyes softening a little as she remembered Callen's shooting twenty months ago. "We all hope so." She added.

Deeks watched the girl look out the window, tears forming. His heart pricked for this girl who had to wonder with them about Callen's wellbeing. He offered simply, "I'm sure he's alright. The guy is unstoppable."

Joy looked at him. She smiled gratefully.

Marty smiled back. "Don't worry, okay?"

She nodded.

"Yeah," Kensi agreed. "Sam's going to bring him back."

* * *

><p>Sam dialed Eric on his new phone as he pulled out onto the street.<p>

Eric answered readily, "Sam, Agent Callen's GPS tracker hasn't moved."

"Where is he, Eric?" Sam barked.

"He's one-point-two miles from the Garcia house. I'm sending the coordinates to your phone."

Sam turned the Challenger around, tires squealing, heading back toward Joy's neighborhood. "I need eyes in that area, Eric. Get me something!"

"On it, Sam!" Eric said, "I'm coordinating with Nell…"

Sam was forced to stop for a light. He looked at the iPhone's coordinates. The positioning wasn't too far from Joy's house, at all. When the light turned green, he sped forward.

Eric's voice came back, "Nell has eyes in that area, Sam. I'm adding her to our call."

Nell's voice sounded. "I have two video cameras in the vicinity of those coordinates, gents. Pulling them online now."

Sam weaved around some bundles of traffic, waiting impatiently.

"Bugger. I knew I should've implanted it." Hetty's voice surprised Eric and Sam by coming over the speakers. "Mr. Hanna? It would seem that Thorn has gotten the better of us."

Sam felt a chill at the base of his spine. "Hetty? What do you mean?"

Hetty answered stonily, "The watch I gave Mr. Callen is lying on the side of the road. It appears to have been 'ditched.'"

Over one-hundred comments, expletives, and exclamations rose up inside the ex-SEAL, but the only word that exited his mouth was that of a worried partner: "What?"

Nell answered him, sounding worried. "They unloaded the watch…"

"Indeed, Miss Jones." Hetty agreed. "Mr. Hanna, you need to exercise extreme caution when picking up that watch. Thorn might be nearby. Nell will be your eyes."

All of Sam's fears and frustrations boiled up. "Hetty—"

"Mr. Hanna, I need you to get that watch." Hetty interrupted him. "We will start tracking them with what we do have—"

"With what?" Sam interrupted Hetty, irritation and worry coursing through his veins. "Traffic cams?"

"_Yes,_ Mr. Hanna, and in the plethora of other ways we have available to us."

Sam ground his teeth, getting angry fast. His partner was in the custody of those who had trained the ghost who had tried to kill him four times in one day. This was no time for guesses or mistakes. _What if they know G was the target of their agent? What if they know G is NCIS? What if they aren't clueless like Hetty thinks? What if they wanted G all along? _Sam forced himself to stop thinking about all of the variables. He wanted to get to his partner as fast as he could, however he could. He would do everything in his power possible to make that happen.

Suddenly, Sam remembered something that could help them: "I was tailed this morning."

Eric broke in, asking, "Tailed by Thorn?"

"Yeah. They were tailing me in a black car, I believe a 2010 Mercury Grand Marquis, after I left the scene with Joy."

"Excellent, Agent Hanna." Hetty congratulated. Then she commanded, "Mr. Beale, access the traffic cams that Sam's GPS has passed."

"On it!" Eric answered quickly.

"Hetty," Sam said to her interrupting them, "I don't like this."

"Neither do I, Mr. Hanna. Neither do I."


	5. Captive

Chapter 5: Captive

?:? AM?

The barest hints of sound broke through the darkness that held him. Swimming in the warmth of unconsciousness, he tried to ignore it for as long as he could. The sounds would leave him alone for a time, then they would return to bother him. This cycle continued for a long time, until finally, the sounds became louder and clearer. The sounds were voices.

His mind began to gather itself towards consciousness. And, as it did, questions formed. _Where am I? Why am I sleeping while people talk around me? Wait, what happened? _

Feeling was beginning to return to his limbs, and he was chagrin to realize he was laying flat on his back, on something hard. G Callen instantly awoke. He remembered. He had been protecting Joy. _Thorn._

He opened his eyes to a bright room and instantly regretted the action with the pounding headache that made itself felt. He blinked hard, trying to gather where he was through the painful light. He realized quickly that the three men that stood above him. He kept silent as he worked to gather himself.

As the moments wore on, he realized that he was on a waist-high, cold, metal table in a white room with two florescent lights above him, and a few bright lamps on opposing sides of the room. He couldn't see the door, so he assumed that it was behind his line of sight. The men were watching him. They were wearing all black, including black rubber gloves, but they weren't wearing masks. Moving slightly, G discovered he was restrained by his ankles, waist, chest, and wrists. His wrists were out to the sides of his head, the restraints literally having him in the 'surrender' position.

Callen fought back the first waves of fear that washed over him. He swallowed, trying to become further alert. The second wave of fear was smaller than the first, thanks to his training. He took the faintest bit of the fear and used it to stimulate his adrenaline. This looked bad, but he refused to panic. He had been captured before in faraway lands… and, in some not-so-faraway lands. His self-assurance in his abilities to withstand torture and escape almost bordered on prideful. He refused to give any of these guys the pleasure of seeing fear in his eyes. The bad guys never saw fear in his eyes. He had taught himself to look angry, instead. He'd learned that trick when he was young. It kept him in control, even when he wasn't. He firmly believed he could handle whatever Thorn threw at him. And, even if he couldn't as G Callen, he had plenty of aliases that could. He wasn't afraid to pull them out to survive.

He just had to survive until Sam reached him.

G looked at the man who was closest to him: a dark-haired, tall, well-toned, light-skinned, man, probably in his forties, who was regarding him with a small type of amusement in his confident, dark eyes. Callen's money was on this guy being the leader of the three. The guy to his left was an olive-skinned, shorter, thinner, younger man, in his twenties, at least. The third guy was standing near a table on the side of the room. He was height between the first two; around the late thirties in age. He had dark blonde hair and green eyes. His hand was resting on a computer screen next to him.

The man closest to him put his black-gloved hands behind his back, tilted his head, and said with a slight accent, "Welcome back."

Callen immediately recognized his accent as Irish. The man was trying to mask it. G didn't trust this guy instantly; he was _way_ too confident. He decided quickly how much talking he needed to be doing: as much as possible. There would be no bringing Thorn out into the open unless they had information on them. Something solid. The man was watching him carefully.

G trained his blue eyes on the man, and made them flash with annoyance. "Where am I?"

The man with the accent raised his eyebrows at Callen's first words. He waited a moment and then answered him, "Well now. I might be able to tell you that, but first we need a trade of information."

G allowed his annoyance to turn into a small smug look. "Information." He looked at the ceiling, thinking about how he might be able to use this against Thorn, and then gave a small shrug. "Ask away." G looked back at the man. He hoped in the back of his mind that this guy wouldn't ask about Joy first. That would make this conversation short.

"What is your name?"

A great deal of relief came over Callen as he realized that Thorn still didn't know who he was. After the breach of NCIS OSP, he hadn't been sure. Especially since the girl who had set him up to die was one of their agents. Hetty's best guess was that the girl _hadn't _shared information, but even she had only been ninety-percent sure. G grimaced at the man and asked, "Why should I tell you that?"

The guy crossed his arms. "Well, honestly, I'm getting annoyed by our high-scale facial recognition program not being able to pull anything on you within the government's personnel."

Callen looked at him questioningly. "The government's personnel?"

The guy exhaled, his two buddies shifting in their stances behind him. G wondered if they were as laid-back as they were portraying. They didn't seem to be in any hurry to get information from him.

"Your gun." The leader said. "It's registered with the government, but not with a specific branch. And, we can't get anything off of your phone. It's a lifeless, five-hundred-dollar brick. So. You give me your name, and I'll tell you where you are."

Callen pursed his lips and nodded slowly, looking to the left, away from the man. The deal was false. There was no way this controlling guy would tell him where he was. He brought his eyes back to bore holes through his captor's. "So. You can search faces _and _guns. How fascinating." He allowed a smug look to settle on his features, as fake amusement gleamed in his eyes.

"Glad you think so." The guy seemed to be intrigued genuinely by his attitude, but wasn't about to let it drop. He lowered his chin and became more serious. "Answer the question. Who are you?"

"Who are you?" Callen asked, deflecting the question. This had suddenly become a game to him, keeping the fear further at bay. He betted this guy would play it with him...

"My name is irrelevant," The man said, still watching Callen's every move. "But… if you need to know who has you in their custody, we call ourselves Pure."

Callen inwardly celebrated. He finally knew what they were called! _Pure._ It made sense, since the Latin letter thorn that they used for their name looked like a 'p'. Eric would be thrilled to have a real name to start searching for them with. He continued seamlessly, "Name it yourself?"

"No." The man let out a low chuckle. "Pure, as an organization, was around long before I knew about them."

"And how long ago was that?"

"Oh, I don't know." The man said. "A very long time ago. Much of Pure's history dies with its operatives. It makes it safer for those of us who carry on the legacy."

G nodded once, and raised an eyebrow. He threw out a barb. "A legacy of kidnapping sixteen-year-old girls?"

"Ah, since you bring her up, why were you protecting the girl?" The man's look turned slightly dark.

G gritted his teeth for a moment before deflecting him with another question, "Why do you want her?"

The man moved a step closer. "You shot three of us while protecting her. Now, why would you do a thing like that?"

"Seemed like the right thing to do." Callen answered simply.

The man looked for away for a moment. Then he turned back, saying chidingly, "Well, if it wasn't for body armor, it would've put a damper on our relationship." The man's dark eyes were playing, but he was trying to bring control back over the situation.

Callen stared at him, not replying.

The man asked him, "Did someone order you to protect her?"

"Yes." Callen answered, resolutely, sounding as if he was glad for a question he could answer.

"Ah. Now we are getting somewhere. Who, might I ask?"

Callen answered honestly, "I did."

The man loosened up a bit, obviously finding Callen's answer amusing. "Good reply. Good reply. …So, are you related to the girl? I mean, why on earth would you be helping her run from us at five in the morning? Risking life and limb against an enemy that you couldn't possibly beat?" The man smiled darkly at him. "Are you an undercover police officer?"

"I don't think you're after the girl. I think you're after information. What makes you think she has what you want?" Callen smirked back, hoping to irritate the man by not answering his question.

"Because I'm brilliant, that's why." The man said, sighing. "Since you want to be involved so badly…" The man moved to the table and brought back a large headshot of a blonde woman. He held it for Callen to look at. "Do you know this woman?"

Callen glances at the photo. He answered victoriously, "No." He forces his eyes to portray the same message as his mouth. But, it was a blatant lie. He absolutely recognized her. The picture was of the woman responsible for shooting at him, missing, and hitting Joy in the back, instead. The same woman had also injured Hetty by throwing a knife at her. She'd been hired by Mad Manny Cortez as an assassin. And she had nearly succeeded. Four times in one day.

The man's eyes showed his annoyance at the stonewalling. "Now, really. We can do this the easy way… or the long, drawn-out, hard way."

Callen didn't blink, still looking smug. "And, what's the hard way? Tickle-torture?"

The man broke into a small, dark, disbelieving grin. "You really must be something at whatever your job is." He shook his head. "No torture." He glanced at G's face for signs of relief or otherwise. Finding none, he continued, "That's what makes Pure so special, you might say. We never have to torture anyone for information or cooperation. We have a way around that. People always end up helping us of their own free will," He brought his head closer to Callen's, placing his hand on the table G laid on. "…and they remember _nothing_."

Callen processes what he's saying, understanding that the man was threatening him, but not exactly sure how. There was no way he would forget these guys, or the fact that their organization is called Pure. _How could others have remembered nothing? _

The Irish-accented man sneered when he saw the wheels turning in G's eyes. He continued, "You _will_ help us. You _will_ lead us to the girl. You _will_ lead us to information about yourself. We _will_ get the information we're after. And you _won't_ remember us _or_ this conversation."

G found himself glaring at the man as he spoke.

The guy leaned back, smiling at him knowingly. "See? You have a lot of spunk. I bet the minute we release you, you'll find a way to contact the girl, or whatever organization you're with. All we have to do is follow you and watch at a distance." The man turned away from him. "It will be a delight, getting to see that girl again."

Callen was instantly angry. He fought to keep his emotions walled up on the inside. There was no way he was letting this jerk near Joy. As soon as he got free, he was going to punch this guy's cockiness into the next time zone. "What makes you think I'll lead you to them?"

The smallest guy was suddenly moving down toward Callen's shoes, distracting him.

G realized the guy was holding a couple of syringes and an alcohol swab. Realization began to dawn on him. And, with the realization, fear tried to wash over him again. He hated needles. Whatever was about to happen, he wasn't going to like it.

The man said the word as if it was an answer, "Because."


	6. Wrong

Chapter 6: Wrong

?:? AM?

Sensation returned to Callen painfully. A throbbing head was the first of many aches to break through his half-conscious state. It was followed closely by nausea and achy limbs. _Was I in a fight?_ He wondered as he fought to open his eyes against the nasty bright light surrounding him. He groaned, moving slightly, trying to determine where he was. Judging by the sounds, he was outdoors and it was sometime during the day. The temperature was cool enough to suggest morning. He was lying on his side on something hard. _Where am I? What the hell did I do?_

G brought a weak hand to his eyes to shield them from the outdoor light. He laid there another moment, gathering himself. The last thing he remembered was getting home last night after a hard day of bad guy chasing. Everything was a blank after that… This was weird, because he usually spent the night doing activities as well as taking catnaps.

_Did Sam talk me into a drink after work?_ After thinking the thought, G quickly dismissed it, Sam wouldn't allow him to get drunk enough to blank out an entire night. He hated getting that drunk, anyway, since he thought large hangovers were a stupid reason to hate life the next day. _Then why do I feel like I have the hangover of the century?_ Nausea rolled through him again, as if agreeing with the thought. He fought it back with even, slow breathing.

He agonizingly pushed himself up into the sitting position, headache pounding, and looked around. Callen realized he was in a long, cement alley, behind a dumpster. His breathing accelerated as he captured the fact that he had been unconscious, alone, in an alley.

_Not good. If I go drinking, I don't do enough for this. And I don't get drunk without Sam nearby. Something is wrong. _

He started going back over what he remembered as fast as he could. Things didn't add up. He couldn't remember why he would be alone without Sam. His "trouble" sense was tingling on red alert.

Ignoring the dizziness that washed over him with the movement, he pushed himself up to his feet and was rewarded by nearly stumbling head-first into the closest wall, muscles shaking. Trembling, he caught himself on the brick and paused there to get his breathing under control. Taking a quick glance down at himself, he found he was still wearing the outfit he had been in the day before, when he had been chasing bad guys with Sam. Maybe he _did_ go out for drinks with his partner. _Where is Sam?_

G slowly reached for his gun. It was still in his back holster. _Mmm… That's wrong. _ He never took his gun into a bar unless he was on duty. And he distinctly remembered _not_ being on duty at the end of last night. G frowned.

_Wait… What if I've lost a day somehow?_ A chill came over Callen with the thought. He needed answers fast.

He reached for his iPhone in his pocket. It wasn't in the pocket he normally kept it in. He checked the others. It wasn't in any of his pockets. G scanned the ground around him for his Hetty-issued phone. His eyes narrowed. It was gone. Completely gone. His petite boss wasn't going to be happy.

He inhaled and exhaled through his nose, calming the nausea and his protesting muscles, trying to think through the Texas-sized headache that was harassing him. No phone meant he couldn't call Sam. He remembered he didn't have his billfold on him, either. No money. No burn phone.

He was on his own.

G gave a half-smirk to the alley around him.

* * *

><p>Sam fought to keep himself calm as he drove G's Aston Martin Rapide. After retrieving Hetty's GPS watch, she had directed him to an off-site location where she had the OSP mechanic team standing by to go over Sam's Challenger with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any sign of a tracking device. The mechanic team had apparently retrieved G's car and brought it back to their location. Hetty told him to drive Agent Callen's car while he waited for his to be inspected. Now he was driving the beautiful, sleek, white car to Headquarters per Hetty's request. She had gotten wind of how he had been tranquilized and of his head injury and wanted to be sure he was okay. Just the thought of Hetty checking him for a concussion had made his head hurt more, but there was no escape, so he was manning up and going to her now. He didn't really care about Hetty right now, anyway.<p>

Being in G's car was a terrible reminder that G was captured. The ex-SEAL's emotions kept roiling in an angry, resentful, frustrated, fearful circle that he couldn't stop. He blamed himself almost as much as he blamed Hetty for allowing his partner to be captured. He angrily agreed completely with his Boss's analysis post-situation: she should've implanted that tracking chip on G somewhere. Just stuck it in him. With a big needle. _Hell, I would've helped. _When they had gone over this stupid plan, it had been presented as a simple draw-the-enemy-out-and-keep-the-kid-safe operation. G getting snatched had not been something any of the team had thought was a real possibility.

The large agent worked to get his mind out of the emotions he was drowning in. He needed to find G. He needed to rescue G. He hadn't been separated like this from Callen in a long time and had sworn it wouldn't ever happen again. Sam ground his teeth. _Promises, promises, SEAL._ He scolded himself. _Suck it up and figure out where these guys have taken G!_

Sam's backup iPhone, sitting in the center console, began to ring. The screen showed the call was from Eric. He answered it and put it on speaker. "Yeah, Eric?"

"Sam!" Eric said excitedly, "I have Callen on the phone. He's asking for you. Unrecognized number. I'm recording and tracing the call."

The Senior Agent stopped breathing for a moment, nearly swerving the car out of his traffic lane. Sam recovered and sat up straighter, going over all the possibilities of how this might be possible. Worry coursed through him. "Patch him through, Eric!" Sam desperately hoped Thorn wasn't holding a gun to G's head to make him call them.

"Sam?" G's voice came over the phone, sounding slightly off to his partner's trained ears. "Why does Eric have your phone?" The comment was meant to gain information and joke, but Sam didn't want to play. He wanted answers.

"Where are you?" Sam asked, voice upset. He purposefully didn't use G's name, just in case.

There was a pause, then G answered, "I'm downtown. Second Street and Temple. A nice lady is letting me use her cell phone. I'm thinking of heading to the library. Wanna join?"

Confusion came over Sam as he sifted through what G had just said. There was nothing that indicated anything was wrong. He hadn't used any of their code words to show he was being watched or that he was in custody. He was asking as if he just needed a ride. Sam answered him carefully, "I'm on my way... Anything you want to tell me?"

There was another pause, before his partner asked in return, "Is everything okay, Sam?"

The question normally wouldn't have set off any alarms, but after the morning they'd had, it crashed around Sam like a tsunami. Something was wrong.

Sam finally replied, casually, this time using one of their codes, "Just missin' you. Meet you at the library."

"Nice." G said, seamlessly, showing he had understood the code. Then he replied, also in their code, "Don't forget to bring a map."

Sam showed he understood, "Nice. See you in a few."

The line clicked, showing that G had ended the phone call on his end. Sam had already turned to head the Aston Martin downtown.

Eric's voice came over Sam's phone, "The location that Agent Callen gave was where I triangulated the cell phone as being… The phone number belongs to a—"

Nell's voice came over the phone, completing Eric's sentence. "Nice lady… Or should I say, a nice _old _lady. Her name is Jane Carrington. Driver's license shows her as being seventy-four." Nell added as an after-thought, "No criminal background. Paid for a parking ticket last year."

Sam was confused. He tried to drive as he worked through what he had just gotten off of his partner's words and voice.

"Did Agent Callen sound off to you, Mr. Hanna?" Hetty asked, quietly, seriously, over the phone.

Sam hesitated and then said honestly, "Yeah." At Hetty's silence, he elaborated, "He sounded like he wasn't feeling a hundred percent."

"I gathered that much." Hetty said, sounding the tiniest bit worried. "Eric, please locate Mr. Callen via camera."

"On it." Eric's voice responded.

Hetty asked Sam, "You two were speaking in code, weren't you? What did he say?"

Sam explained, "The 'missing you' line let him know that something big is going on without him. That's what's confusing me. He gave a reply that doesn't make any sense…"

"Which was?"

"'Don't forget to bring a map'… Basically translates into 'I'm in the dark, lost, have no idea what's going on'… That's what doesn't make any sense." Sam shook his head, eyes dark, "He was taken, so he should have told me if he was safe, being watched, or being manipulated. He didn't."

"And you are certain that your partner understood the code?"

"Yes."

"Sam," Hetty said, lowering her voice, "Take him to the hospital as soon as you retrieve him. I will meet you both there."

"Hetty?"

"You said it yourself, something is not right. Callen was captured and is now free. I have the feeling we're going to need Dr. Rodgers on this one." Hetty paused, and then added, "You might want to keep your partner in the dark until you arrive."

Sam grimaced.

"There he is!" Nell's voice broke in. There were a few moments of silence. "Ooo, he doesn't look good."

Sam's heart started beating faster. "Nell?"

Hetty's voice returned, "What Miss Jones _meant_ to say is that Agent Callen looks a little tired. He actually looks quite unharmed, thank goodness."

Sam swallowed and started breathing again.

"He's headed into the library, Agent Hanna." Hetty said. "Go get your partner.

* * *

><p>G sank into a soft, reading armchair in a barely lit, back corner of the library. He exhaled, relaxing his sore body. He had walked around once, looking for signs of a tail, but luckily, the library was sparsely populated currently. He had then looked for a dark, quiet area where his throbbing headache and nausea could have a break. The chair was soft and for a moment, Callen believed himself to be a genius for finding such a good place to wait for Sam.<p>

Pulling a magazine from a nearby table, he began to look at it slowly without really looking at it. He was hurting, confused, and ready to be neither. Sam couldn't get to him fast enough. Breathing deeply to calm his stomach, G watched his surroundings faintly, eyes barely leaving the magazine, and puzzled through what Sam had said to him on the phone.

Something big was going down. Sam had been checking to see what his status was. In return, G had been completely honest with his partner: I have no idea what's going on. Sam had the answers this time, and he couldn't wait to hear them.

Why had he been kept out of the loop? Callen frowned at the magazine. He hated being kept out of the loop. His head throbbed strongly for a moment, causing him to close his eyes in pain, before it subsided to a dull ache again.

_What's with this hangover? _G grumbled internally. He couldn't remember what he had drank or done, but this was agony. Hopefully, he hadn't deserved it. It was unnerving that he still couldn't remember. Opening his eyes to resume looking at the magazine, he found the light hurt less.

_Get a grip, Callen._ G chided himself. He started breathing slower and deeper, imitating Sam when the ex-SEAL would meditate at the office. The action was greatly relaxing, so he continued to do it until he felt Sam lock his eyes on his sitting form from the doors of the library.

G took a breath and moved to stand up. His headache and nausea had subsided greatly in the forty minutes it had taken for Sam to get to him. He was still sore, however, as his back and arms reminded him as he stretched slightly as his frowning partner walked over.

Sam stopped a few feet from him. His dark brown eyes dancing over G, he asked lowly, "You okay?"

G gave his partner the most convincing look he could. "I'm fine."

The taller man crossed his arms and looked seriously at him. "You look like you're fighting a headache."

G gave his partner a semi-disgusted look that indicated he was right. He exhaled slowly. He hated it when Sam read him that easily.

Sam didn't crack a smile, as he normally would have. Instead, he looked around once, then asked G, "You alone?"

Confusion came over Callen at the question. He stared hard at his partner, wanting to know what he was getting at.

Sam took his look as an affirmative, so he asked then, "Where did they have you? How did you escape?"

The confusion ran deeper as he briefly wondered if Sam was joking with him. G understood quickly by the look in Sam's eyes that this was no joke. The big guy was genuinely worried about him. Callen quietly told Sam what he knew, hoping that some sense could be made of it. "I woke up in an alley not far from here with what feels like the hangover from Libya…" G averted his eyes for a moment, trying to word the next part so that his partner wouldn't panic. He brought his gaze back to Sam's calmly. "…I can't remember anything past you driving me home from the Clarkson case."

Sam's eyes filled with a controlled level of panic. He watched his partner, staying silent.

G looked down and asked, quietly, "That _was_ last night?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah." Sam ran his eyes up and down G, obviously looking for injuries. Again.

"Stop it, Sam." G muttered, glancing toward the doorway nervously. Suddenly, he felt like they were being watched. "Now, who had me?"

His partner, sensing his distraction, answered lowly, "Let's talk in the car."

G nodded and walked beside Sam out of the library into the bright outdoors. He squinted and tried not to be annoyed when his headache attempted to throb again. Sam led them to a curbside parking area. "Wait." G said when he laid eyes on the car. "You're driving _my _car?"

Sam went to the driver's side and began to get in, tossing out a "Yep."

Callen got in the passenger side. "So, why am I not driving _my_ car?"

"You're not feeling well. Buckle up."

G put the seat belt into place, asking in the same tone, "And where's _your_ car?"

Sam glanced over at him before starting the car and maneuvering to get them onto the street. "It's being checked for tracking devices."

Callen stared at his partner. He was already tired of this. His headache was back and the nausea was attempting to do the same. He tried to relax back into the seat as he asked again, "So. Who had me?"

His partner exhaled, and then answered, "Thorn had you."

G felt a chill come over him. He sat up straight trying to sort out what Sam was saying. "What? Wait, how? Did they get to Joy? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine." Sam looked over at him, eyebrows arched. "You held them off while she made it to a hiding place. They took you after that. You don't remember? It was this morning."

G worked furiously to find any clue in his memory to the fact that Sam was telling the truth. He hit dead-ends over and over again. If he didn't trust Sam so much, he would say he was lying. G looked at Sam, and told him honestly, "I remember nothing."

Sam stopped for a red light and then looked over at him hard. "Do you have a concussion? You have a headache."

G grimaced, "No. I know the difference between a concussion and a hangover, or whatever this is, headache. Concussions ache. Hangovers throb."

"Maybe for you. You know Hetty's going to ask."

"Where's Joy?" G asked, changing the subject. It had been a few weeks since he had seen her, according to his memories.

"With Kensi and Deeks."

G nodded, sitting back, still trying to access memories. His partner was driving them in a direction that wasn't the fastest route back to OSP Headquarters. "Where are we going?"

This time, Sam didn't take his eyes off the road. "Hetty picked a rendezvous point. We're to meet her there."

Callen thought over Sam's reply. He put two and two together and his head hurt more and his stomach churned. "Do I want to know?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding exactly as weary as he felt.

"Nope."


	7. Test

Chapter 7: Test

12:02 PM

Eric Beale and Nell Jones, now together in Eagle's Nest, were both breathing easier. Callen had showed up. The Senior Agent-in-Charge had only been missing for three-and-a-half hours. It was just slightly more incredible than amazing. Hetty had left for the hospital to meet both the agent and his partner there.

Eric was glad that this "missing agent" situation hadn't turned out the way it had with Dominic Vail. From where he sat in his swivel chair at his terminal, he glanced over at Nell who was working with the smart screen. He was glad that she hadn't had to live through that season of panic, hurt, and loss. The entire team had taken a long time to become okay afterwards. He, himself, had been casual buddies with Dom. He remembered how Dom had set up a fake Facebook page so he could friend him. They had discussed Hetty's Greek wall posts more than a few times. That was, until Dom hadn't come back. Eric had blamed himself for months. Something that Dr. Nate Getz had patiently talked through with him several times before the Doctor had left for a secret mission. Eric had finally found peace with the bitter truth: the clues just hadn't surfaced until it was too late.

Nell, monitoring LAPD chatter and a handful of other things, turned slightly and saw a strange look on Eric's face. She paused in her data analysis and called to him, "Eric?"

Eric looked at her, slightly startled, eyebrows raised.

She raised her right eyebrow, asking plainly, "Is everything… copasetic?"

Eric gave her a blank stare. "Yeah."

She pursed her lips and nodded, her eyes showing she didn't believe it completely.

A pang of liar's guilt shot through Eric. He took a short breath and told her the truth, "I'm just really glad Callen got away from Thorn… It was just… a familiar scenario. That's all." Eric scratched the side of his head, uncomfortable.

Nell caught onto his need to stop discussing whatever it was that was on his mind. She gave him a small reassuring look. "I'm glad, too. Yet, somehow I'd wager Callen would prefer Thorn over where he is currently."

Eric smiled. "Hetty _and _a hospital." Eric tilted his head to the left. "Bummer."

They shared a knowing, amused look.

They were interrupted by an incoming call. Nell moved to answer it with her earpiece-headset.

"This is Nell."

The voice in her ear was female, "So, what's up?"

"Agent Blye! Hello." Nell greeted, smiling.

"Where are Sam and Callen?" Kensi demanded, skipping all the small talk.

Before Nell could answer, Deeks' voice drifted in the background, taunting, "Ooo, Kensi's being maternal!"

Nell could only imagine the heat of the look Kensi was leveling the detective with in her silence. She quickly tried to save the LAPD Liaison, "Sam and Callen should be arriving at the hospital shortly. Hetty is probably already there waiting for them."

"Do we know if he was injured? Or what happened? Did he escape?"

Nell opened her mouth and thought over all the information that she knew, then answered simply, "No, negative, and not sure."

Kensi exhaled on the other line. "So, he just shows up, calls Sam for a ride? And now they're headed for the hospital?"

"Basically." Nell said with a nod and a small grimace, sad that she had nothing else to add.

"Okay." Kensi said sullenly. "Well, please let us know if you guys find out anything… Joy keeps asking."

"Surely." Nell promised. She knew hardly anything about the teenager, Joy Garcia, other than what she had gleaned from Eric and files, but asked anyway, "Do you need anything for Joy?"

"Nah. We're good. Deeks is keeping her entertained…" The female agent trailed off, then blurted out, "OFF the table!"

Deeks' voice floated back, protesting, "I'm just trying to get the football!"

"Get a new one! OFF! DOWN. NOW!" Kensi said, "maternal" voice at maximum persuasion.

Nell glanced at Eric with wide eyes. He looked at her quizzically, not being able to hear Kensi's side of the conversation. She motioned disbelieving at her earpiece, making Eric grin.

"I gotta go, Nell. Keep me in the loop."

The beep on the line signaled that Kensi had hung up.

"Well. _That_ was interesting." Nell murmured, focusing back on her smart screen.

Eric returned to his work, offering, "It always is." Eric pulled up two screens of traffic cameras, typed for moment, and then froze. His lips parted silently, not believing what he was seeing. "You are _kidding_ me…"

Nell came up beside him, trying to see what he was. Her eyes widened as he hit "Play" and showed her what had happened. She leaned forward and gave him a disbelieving look, "How…?"

Eric shrugged. "_We're_ good enough to do that."

"You think Thorn is as good as we are?" Nell shook her head slowly, thinking briefly of the implications of a level playing field. She then turned and returned to her work. "You found it. You get to tell Hetty."

Eric pursed his lips and shot her a look through his glasses that conveyed a message close to "chicken." The tech operator picked up his hand held computer and stood. He walked across the room, telling her. "Screen three is now in use."

Nell tilted her head in acknowledgement. She typed on her handheld to lock her two screens so she wouldn't accidentally move any of her work onto his.

Eric took a deep breath and dialed their boss' cell phone. It rang a few times over the speakers in Eagle's Nest before the older woman answered.

"Mr. Beale?"

"There was a strange blackout around the alley where Agent Callen woke up... There's no camera footage." Eric winced while he said it, knowing this wasn't going to look good.

"Describe 'strange' to me in English, Mr. Beale."

"It lasted exactly six minutes and the only affected cameras were those we need."

"Strange."

"Precisely."

Hetty took a slow breath. She told him lowly, "Please keep the area around the hospital monitored. Sam and G just arrived, and I have a feeling that Thorn isn't playing nice."

Eric nodded, as if she could see him. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Please keep me apprised." Hetty ordered calmly. "I will check in on the hour."

"Got it. Yes, Ma'am."

"Good." Hetty hung up.

Nell looked over at Eric. "Want help? I have three point two minutes before my program finishes."

Eric flashed a grateful grin. "Yes, please."

* * *

><p>A forest-green sedan slowly passed by the outside of the hospital, the passenger window was rolled down. The two men in the front seat were both wearing casual work clothes and sunglasses. The one in the passenger seat glanced easily at the Emergency Room entrance and then smirked at his neighbor.<p>

"He's in there." He said, his British accent thick.

The driver returned to normal speed and continued with the flow of traffic. The driver asked carefully, "There's no doubt?" His voice distinctly low, with no accent.

The passenger held up his handheld computer. "None." The man chuckled. "Such a shame. They won't find anything."

"No, they won't." The driver agreed, his look turned dark for a moment, "And I hope they give him a hard time while they don't. My shoulder still aches." The man raised his left shoulder and grimaced.

The other man grinned, "Oh, come on. He was a great shot. You have to at _least_ give him that."

"If he was a great shot, I'd be dead."

The man with the British accent laughed. "You're being an infant."

The driver glared at him.

"You need some lunch. Come on. There's a Chili's about five streets that way. My treat."

The driver turned the correct direction and took them away from the hospital. He_ was_ hungry. And nothing gave him a bigger appetite than having to be patient.

* * *

><p>Sam had expected the whirlwind of activity when he arrived with G, but it was much more organized than he had anticipated. The OSP's special team of doctors was awaiting them with Hetty when they walked in. Dr. Ethan Rodgers, the tall, older doctor greeted Callen and immediately whisked him down the hallways of the emergency room, his assistant Dr. Matt Waters following them. To Sam it looked like Dr. Waters was physically blocking Callen's retreat if he decided he didn't want to go with them. Luckily, in the parking lot, Callen had become resigned to the idea that this "check-up" was going to happen whether he protested or not. That fact had become evident with Hetty standing there to the side, not saying a word, but daring G with her very presence to refuse her wishes. Sam would've laughed at how much Callen looked like a teenager, begrudgingly going with the doctors, if the situation hadn't been so stressful.<p>

Sam wanted to follow Callen, but Dr. James Kyle, the other assistant, was pulling him through the hallways a bit behind Callen, toward his own room. Hetty was following Sam. Dr. Kyle started asking Sam questions about his head injury and tranquilizer experience. Sam sighed and answered all the questions as he was ushered into the large "HP Room 6." The Ex-Seal noticed that they took Callen into the equally-large room next to his: HP Room 7. Sam looked at the floor and smirked as he climbed up on the examination table. "High Profile" Room 7 was the exact same room Callen had been in on the day this whole mess with Thorn had started. At least he could rest easy about G's safety. The High Profile rooms stayed locked to add protection and privacy for special patients.

Dr. Kyle began checking Sam over. Sam was relieved to find that Hetty had waited in the hall. If she had been in the room, he probably wouldn't have winced when the doctor touched a tender spot on his head. He had managed to ignore his head's complaining for most of the morning, being preoccupied with G's kidnapping. Now his head was throbbing.

The door opened and a black-haired, shorter woman entered, bringing a small tray holding wound dressings on it.

Sam instantly recognized her. "Erika?"

"Hi!" The nurse greeted him with a big smile. "Didn't expect the panic to be over your partner again. Good to see you."

Sam let out a small snort. "So, did Dr. Rodgers decide to keep you around?"

Nurse Erika Wang came to stand next to Dr. Kyle with a grin, "Well, sorta."

Dr. Kyle explained, "Nurse De'Shaé decided she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. We were down a nurse, so Dr. Rodgers went with a nurse with high recommendations."

Sam looked at her. "That's great."

Erika beamed. "I really think it was Hetty's recommendation that did the trick."

He couldn't help his surprised look.

Dr. Kyle took his pen light out of his pocket and began to check Sam's eyes. "Not me. I still think Erika impressed Dr. Rodgers with her attitude. This girl never has a bad day."

Sam winced at the light and fought not to draw back. Dr. Kyle gave him a few seconds then tested a second time.

The nurse said easily, "There's just no reason to. You're alive or you're dead. Live happy if you're breathing, that's my motto."

"Well." Dr. Kyle said, replacing his penlight in his pocket. "Mr. Hanna, you had a good little knock to your head. A mild concussion. We'll get you something to take the edge off that headache." Turning to Erika, Dr. Kyle requested, "Three Tylenol, please?" She nodded and left the room. The doctor turned back to Sam and asked, "Now, can you lift your shirt for me so I can see where that dart hit you?"

Sam nodded and easily took off his shirt. "I think it was on my left shoulder."

Dr. Kyle walked around and carefully examined Sam's back visually. After a few moments, he murmured, "There it is. Hmm." He touched his skin about three inches below the top of the Agent's left shoulder. "Amazing that it is so hard to see. Barely bruised at all."

Sam made an amused sound. "Didn't even see it coming." He had been so focused on the baddie who had G that he had let down his guard. He wouldn't do that again. Hopefully. "Hey, Doc, no disrespect, but can we hurry this? I want to get back to my partner."

Dr. Kyle came back around him. "Sure. Let me have Erika draw some blood and get you to take a few pain pills, and you're clear. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." Sam nodded once.

* * *

><p>Sam was standing outside of G's room with Hetty for perhaps two minutes, listening to Dr. Kyle update his boss on his condition, when Dr. Rodgers opened the door and motioned for them to come in. Dr. Waters exited the room behind them and closed the door.<p>

Both Sam and Hetty were surprised to find the only light in the room were two lamps in the room, both set low. The overhead fluorescents were turned off. It was a stark difference from the hallway to the room.

Callen was laying on the examination table/bed on his right side, head on a white pillow, covered to his chin with two of the thin hospital blankets. His eyes were closed.

Sam didn't hesitate to move to Callen's right side, suddenly much more worried than he had been before.

Hetty asked quietly, "Dr. Rodgers, did the examination reveal anything?"

"Besides how much restrained hate I can generate in an individual with a poking and prodding once-over?" He chuckled softly. "Not anything overt, I'm afraid. But I'm not done yet."

Sam looked at the doctor as he spoke. This old guy was braver than most. He wouldn't have had the courage to even _ask_ his partner to submit to such a thing.

Hetty sighed lightly, and then queried, "Does he have a concussion?"

Dr. Rodgers crossed his arms. "No, he doesn't, actually. No signs of any sort of trauma to his head. But he _did_ nearly vomit all over me. He has a headache and is nauseous and a little sore." The doctor gestured at the overhead lights. "Those were making it worse. I believe I might've added to that discomfort, too..." Dr. Rodgers added, looking a bit remorseful.

Sam looked back down at his partner. He realized that G was breathing faster than normal. G was resting but he wasn't unconscious. Sam put out his hand and gave Callen's shoulder a small nudge. "Are you asleep?" He asked lowly.

G parted his lips and answered weakly, keeping his eyes closed, "I'm meditating."

The larger man grinned, remembering the last conversation on meditation. "You sure? 'Cause you look like you're sleeping."

"I'm gonna throw up on you." G muttered, exhaling, still keeping his eyes shut.

Sam knew that G really didn't feel well to be keeping his eyes closed for this long. He reduced his grin to a knowing half-smile and moved protectively closer. He would've put a reassuring hand on his partner's shoulder, but he didn't want to be the one responsible for Callen losing whatever was in his stomach.

Dr. Rodgers brought Hetty closer to where Callen lay and patted the Agent's leg twice through the blanket. "I'm going to show your ankle to Miss Lange, son. Rest easy." G didn't move. The doctor raised the blanket just enough to show Callen's ankles and feet. He pulls out his penlight and points it at an area on the inner right ankle. He asks her lowly, "Did you have this done?"

Hetty became her brand of shocked: not more than a look in her eyes. "No, Dr. Rodgers, I most definitely did _not_ have that done. That must've happened while he was in custody."

"What?" Sam and G asked simultaneously, Sam moving to where Hetty was and G sitting up slightly and looking at them.

The doctor left the light in place so Sam could see the grey mark beside Callen's ankle. He answered G, "I'm not sure what it is, but we're going to find out."

Dr. Rodgers went on to explain that he needed G to hang tough for the next two to three hours while he ran additional tests. He promised that after that he'd get Callen something to drink, eat and something for the pain. At the mention of food, G put his head back down, eyes shut, and grimaced. "I'm still concerned as to why he can't remember last night, yet has no signs of a concussion. It doesn't add up. With your permission, Miss Lange, I'll order the lab work and X-rays first."

Hetty nods her assent and the doctor left the room.

Sam returned to G's side. He squatted down beside Callen's bed, making himself slightly lower level than G's face. "Hey." He whispered. "You doin' okay?"

Callen parted his eyelids for a few moments to look at his partner. Closing his eyes, he murmured, "Can we let them take your blood?"

Sam smirked. "You and getting stuck."

"I hate needles."

"Hey. Good news."

"I get to leave?"

"Other good news."

G opened one eye to look at him and then closed it, waiting.

Sam grinned, "Nurse De'Shaé is gone. Decided to be a stay-at-home mom."

"Really."

"Really. Guess who they replaced her with." Sam waited a beat, and then told him quietly, "Nurse Erika Wang."

"Is that…?"

"Yes."

"Something about God not hating me?"

"Yeah, I think that's how it went." Sam sighed. "How can you remember that and not know you were in Thorn's custody this morning?"

G exhaled, eyes still shut, hiding how frustrated he was. "I don't know."

From at Callen's feet, Hetty watched them, puzzling through her thoughts. She frowned slightly at Callen's quiet admission. Somehow, Thorn was getting ahead of them, and she didn't care for it.

The door opened gently, letting the hallway light to pour in. Nurse Erika and Dr. Waters entered and then closed the door. Erika was carrying things for blood retrieval. Dr. Waters looked ready to be backup. Erika smiled at Hetty and came toward where Sam was standing up. She smiled at Sam once and then put a free hand on Callen's blanket covered shoulder.

"I need to take some blood, Agent Callen. Will you allow me to, please?" She asked kindly.

G opened his eyes to look at her suspiciously. "You're asking?"

"Well…" She bit her lip for a second, then continued, "Last time you didn't make it too easy for me. I thought if I were polite maybe you'd stay still…"

Sam turned away for a moment to hide his grin.

G still saw him, but ignored him while he worked to remember what the nurse was talking about. Erika waited patiently for him to reply. He finally remembered and replied, "It was your own fault for sticking me while I was asleep."

Erika shrugged with a smile. "I don't give the orders, I just follow them. So, what do you say? Will you let me do this? I promise I'm a lot nicer than Dr. Waters."

Dr. Waters let out a small, "Hey!" from beside Hetty.

Callen let out a heavy sigh, nodding.

The nurse smiled brightly. "Thank you! Now, which arm would you like me to use?"

G looked at her in surprise; normally nurses didn't ask any questions, they just did what they wanted. He was, secretly, beginning to like Erika's bedside manner. At least, as much as he was able to like a vampire nurse. "Left."

"Excellent. Would you mind rolling onto your back for me? I'll get your left arm ready."

G did what she asked with Sam's help. His head hurt with the movement, but as soon as he was still, it felt better.

Between Sam's small talk and Nurse Erika's honesty about the _eight_ vials of blood she was going to draw, it ended up being the least-traumatic blood-drawing of Callen's lifetime. He barely felt anything. And since he was lying on his back, he didn't see anything, either.

Afterwards, Dr. Waters told them he had the wheelchair ready to take Callen to get his X-rays done. Callen allowed Sam and Dr. Waters to get him up and into the wheelchair. Dr. Waters folded and put one of the blankets on G's lap, since the hospital gown was thin and the Senior Agent already seemed cold. Sam took the other blanket and put it around G's shoulders. Callen was too headachy and nauseous to care.

* * *

><p>After forcing Deeks to get down from the table and abandon his paper football game with Joy, Kensi had sat down on the boathouse's couch, checking e-mail and glancing at the news on her iPhone. She tried hard to ignore all the joking jabs Marty was flinging her way because she wasn't joining them. Deeks was pulling Joy through all kinds of old school, silly games, many of which were far too young for Joy. But the girl played anyway, seemingly grateful for the distraction. Kensi guessed that she had given the teenager too much caffeine when she'd ordered her a Venti Mocha-Chip frappuccino. She'd probably given Marty too much, too, when she'd ordered him a triple-espresso, but she had felt a small, tiny, bit of guilt over her refusal to share her Skittles.<p>

Joy was doing better since Kensi had told her that G wasn't captured anymore and that Sam was with him. The games had helped. Joy had laughed hysterically whenever Deeks had insisted that he could hide from her in the same room during hide-and-seek and only held onto one of the columns like a koala, in plain sight, looking like an idiot. Granted, he had held on for a long time, before falling off with a thud. Joy hadn't been able to stand upright, she was laughing so hard. And, when Marty had wanted to play tag, he had made her laugh again when his idea of winning was locking himself in the bathroom. He had refused to come out until Joy had stopped laughing long enough to declare him the winner. The laughter was a big improvement over the tears Kensi had witnessed earlier with Sam.

"Hey." Deeks' voice, suddenly soft and caring, caused Kensi to look up.

Joy was sitting with Marty at the table, playing some form of Old Maid. She was rubbing one of her eyes with the back of her hand. He was reaching across the table to touch her hand that was holding the cards, a concerned look on his face.

Kensi felt some alarm, worried that the teen was crying again. She got up off the couch and approached them.

Deeks continued gently, "Are you tired? Do you need to lie down? That was a monster yawn there…"

Kensi came up beside the table as Joy lowered her hand. Her eyes were looked slightly glazed. The female agent was pleased to see that the girl hadn't been crying. She just looked ready to nod off to sleep.

"Are you sleepy, Joy?" Kensi asked her. Joy looked up at her and nodded. "Why don't you go lay down on the couch? I'll get you a blanket."

Joy nodded, giving them a small smile, before moving to the couch Kensi had been sitting on.

Kensi found a blanket on the back of one of the armchairs and brought it over to the teen. She covered her carefully, the girl already not moving and breathing evenly. Kensi returned to sit at the table with Deeks. "Good call." She told him in a whisper.

Deeks smiled at her. He held up one of the cards on the table. "Wanna play?"

Kensi gave him a 'no way' look.

Marty just smiled bigger. He gathered the cards. He shuffled them carefully and then began to play Solitaire.

Thirty minutes later, a frightened cry startled both of the adults at the table. Kensi was on her feet first, realizing quickly that Joy had made the sound and was now sitting up on the couch, panicked.

Kensi sat in front of the girl on the coffee table, taking a hold of the girl's upper arms. "Shh, shh, shh. It's okay, Joy. You're fine. It's safe. Calm down." She soothed.

Joy began to register where she was, few stray tears leaving her eyes. She was breathing heavily.

Deeks came up to them, opening a bottle of water. As Kensi released Joy's arms, Deeks sat down next to her and handed her the bottle of water.

Joy said a quiet 'thanks,' wiping her eyes. She took a shaky sip of the water next. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she said very quietly, "That hasn't happened in months."

"Are you okay?" Deeks asked, concerned.

Joy whispered simply, "Gunshots."

"Ah." Kensi said, understanding instantly.

Marty nodded. "I hear those in my dreams, too. Scary, huh?"

Joy looked at the detective and nodded a few times, a look in her eyes indicating that she never imagined anyone else heard the sounds in their dreams besides herself.

Deeks looked at his partner. "Do you ever hear gunshots in your dreams, Kensi?"

Kensi nodded. "Yeah, but usually they don't scare me. The sudden explosions are what wake me up."

Deeks stared at her for a moment and counted the explosions they had been through as partners. He stopped counting when he got to five. He hadn't realized it had been that many. He also hadn't figured that any of the explosions had bothered his partner. Marty promised himself that he would ask Kensi about it later. Deeks sighed and sat back on the couch, getting comfortable. "Here." He told Joy. "Put your head here." He patted the blank couch space between them. "I'll keep a hand on your arm."

Joy looked at where he patted and then at him, hesitantly.

Kensi smiled at her. "It'll help. Take another nap. This may be a long day. Gotta rest while you can."

Joy shivered and began to lie down where Deeks had said. "You mean like that day when God brought me the first time?" Joy said, giving Kensi a small knowing look.

Kensi agreed, "Yeah. That _was_ a long day, wasn't it?" Kensi took the blanket and covered Joy.

Deeks very carefully did as he had said: placing a hand on her arm over the blanket. "Hey, I want to hear about this long day. All I know about it was in a file that was boring to read." He said. "Somebody want to give me a first-person account?"

Kensi rolled her eyes. "If you'll be quiet, and if Joy doesn't mind, I'll tell you about it while she rests."

Joy nodded at her and then became still, trying to sleep again.

Marty looked at Kensi expectantly.

Kensi began telling him, "I had just come into work. Eric is calling down at us that there was a drive-by shooting at Callen's apartment… and that Sam thought Callen was the target."

"Whoa. There's a morning for ya." Deeks said quietly, trying to imagine what he would've thought if he had heard that it was at Kensi's apartment.

She nodded. "Oh, it gets better."

Deeks raised his eyebrows and listened carefully as she continued.

* * *

><p>"Okay, stick." Dr. Rodgers said just before the sharp pain coursed through G, beginning at his ankle and dancing up through his body, making his breathing catch. The stinging continued for a few seconds and then dissipated. "Hang on, another stick." The entire thing repeated, this time causing Callen to grimace and breathe out hard. The doctor paused for a moment, to agree, "Smarts, I know. This is the last time. Stick…" The pain was less this time, but Callen was almost trembling with the abundance of adrenaline working through his body in protest of the painful injections his ankle was receiving. He worked not to make any pained sounds.<p>

Standing behind the table Callen was on, Sam squeezed G's upper left arm tightly, trying to distract him. It helped a little. The nausea was rearing its ugly head. He wanted water, but he knew it was still an hour away, at least. He tried to think about something else.

"Okay, Callen. Can you feel this?" Dr. Rodgers asked.

Callen shook his head. He felt nothing that the doctor was doing anymore. That was some fast-working local anesthetic.

"Good!" Dr. Rodgers said. He motioned to his assistant who stood beside him at the end of the examination table. "Dr. Kyle, please put your hand here. Here we go…"

Sam squeezed G's arm again as he watched what the doctors were doing.

Dr. Rodgers was very carefully making a small incision above the grey spot on Callen's right ankle while Dr. Kyle held his leg still. The X-Ray had shown a small foreign object had been imbedded there. Hetty, who was now pacing the outside hallway on her phone with Eric, had asked Dr. Rodgers to remove it immediately.

"Aaaand, there it is." Dr. Rodgers said.

Sam glared at what he was seeing.

It was a small tracking chip that the doctor had removed from Callen's ankle.


	8. Genius

Chapter 8: Genius

3:36 PM

Hetty got off of her phone call with Eric. She inhaled slowly as she put her phone in her pocket. Exhaling, she gathered all of the information that Eric had shared with her, all of which equated to nothing truly informative, and turned to watch Dr. Ethan Rodgers leave Callen's room.

The doctor came up to her and handed her a small, glass, lidded container. Inside it was a tiny, slightly bloody micro tracker.

Hetty looked carefully at the item with disdain. She had hoped she would never live to see the day when another agency found a way to track one of her own. This was the equivalent as a punch to the gut: brutal truth that she wasn't infallible at keeping her agents safe. Just like Agent Sullivan. And Agent Vail. "Bugger." She let the word slip from her mouth quietly as an accumulation of everything dark she carried inside her. There was no doubt. Thorn was trying to track Callen—_to use Callen_— to get to the girl. She had been right in her earlier assumption that Thorn wasn't playing nice. And now, she knew something more about the organization: they were not typical in their methods. They weren't playing nice, they had methods of the unexpected nature, and they were getting ahead of her. She could tolerate the first two, but the idea that these Thorn operatives were outsmarting her was something she could _not_ tolerate. Hetty narrowed her eyes at the chip in a rare show of emotion before looking up at the doctor. "How is Mr. Callen?" she asked him quietly.

"The procedure went well." Dr. Rodgers told her lowly, placing his hands behind his back. "He's still very nauseous and has a headache, but he's resting for now…"

Hetty heard something in his voice that indicated he was on the brink of asking her something. "What is it, Ethan? Something troubles you?"

The older man looked down, thinking. Raising his head and meeting Hetty's eyes, he spoke quietly, so as not to be overheard, "Hetty, I have reason to believe Mr. Callen's mind was wiped using a medical process." At Hetty's surprised stare, he elaborated, "There is a colleague of mine, here in this hospital, who studied the art of erasing memories alongside the physician with the majority of the research in Sweden prior to his death in the eighties. She and I have discussed the symptoms displayed in an individual who has had their memories erased over lunch countless times. Mr. Callen has been displaying three of the symptoms that she told me would be present; headache, nausea and sensitivity to bright light… Sure, those symptoms can be caused by several other things, but, the presence of a GPS chip has leaned the argument into the realm of this being a possibility. That being said, I'd like your permission to consult my colleague."

Hetty blinked with a hostile wonder in her eyes. She herself hadn't heard anything of this sort since she had returned to working in the United States. She knew of many countries who had been working to develop such a technique, but she had never heard of one being successful. There had always been too many side effects. Too many deaths caused by trying. Had these Thorn people managed to take Agent Callen's memories, yet, only the memories from his being in their custody? A chill ran up her spine. She hoped it wasn't possible... Leaving her past knowledge of other countries in the crevices of her mind, Hetty asked simply, "How can specific memories be erased medically without deadly side-effects, Ethan?"

The doctor tilted his grey-and-black-haired head, "Dr. Gentry can explain it to you better than I, Henrietta. She told me that such methods have yet to make it to the US for research, but perhaps she is wrong." The doctor exhaled. "I'm struggling to believe that your agent forgot the span of one night without having any alcohol in his system. It's too bizarre... And nothing is showing up in the blood tests and the myriad of other tests I've run…" Dr. Rodgers crossed his arms and exhaled. "Time is not on our side. Whatever was in his system has had several hours to attempt to leave it. That's why I haven't let Agent Callen eat or drink anything; I'm trying to keep any residue around to find traces of what happened to him, if there are any."

"Did the lab ever find what was used to render Agent Hanna unconscious?" Hetty asked, crossing her arms mirroring the tall doctor.

"No traces of anything outside of an elevated electrolyte level." Dr. Rodgers answered. "Whatever they used on him was invisible to screenings."

Hetty looked down for a moment, concerned, thinking to herself, _How advanced... _The doctors couldn't even tell her how they had knocked Sam out.

Dr. Rodgers spoke softly, "I really think Dr. Gentry will help us get some answers, Hetty."

Hetty met his eyes and did her best not to show the inner turmoil that was brewing inside her. Answers were all she wanted. Not just for herself, but so she could protect them all from Thorn. She sighed softly and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed Eric. As the phone rang, she asked, "What is Dr. Gentry's first name?"

"Sophia."

Eric answered Hetty's phone call promptly. Hetty told him simply, "Mr. Beale, please do a complete check on a Dr. Sophia Gentry. Contact me with your findings." She hung up her phone and put her hands in her pockets. "Call her, Dr. Rodgers. And be sure she doesn't know who we are or who Mr. Callen is."

Dr. Rodgers tilted his head, bowing slightly, "Understood."

* * *

><p>Sitting in the forest-green sedan, two men kept watch. They were parked in front of the Starbuck's that was across the street from the hospital. They were casually sipping on coffee, their posture suggesting they had been at this for a long time.<p>

The big guy behind the wheel looked over at the other. He asked lowly, "Still stationary?"

"For the hundredth time," the smaller guy with a British accent replied, frustration lacing his voice, "He's still in there."

The bigger guy took a slow sip of his coffee before asking, "You don't think they discovered the GPS tracker, do you?"

The other man shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. He gave the bigger man a half-smile, "I suppose there's a first time for everything."

"He _won't_ be pleased if _this_ is the first time."

"I would've paid serious money to have seen Agent One stonewalled by this guy." The smaller man said, his British accent filled with amusement.

"Agent One has been stonewalled before. This was nothing new."

"Sure sure. But I heard he did it with _enthusiasm_. I bet _you_ couldn't stonewall Agent One with _enthusiasm_."

The bigger guy looked away, glowering. "Is he still stationary?"

"…Yes." The man said with a chuckle.

A few moments of silence passed between them.

The bigger man asked quietly, "What if the drug has been discovered?"

"Don't even suggest that." The other man answered, accent more prominent with his lowered tone. "It's been used on hundreds of high-profile individuals and has never been discovered before... Even with those who get taken to the hospital right away."

"…But what if it is?"

"…Then Pure as a whole is in really big trouble."

* * *

><p>On the couch in the Boat House, with his hand still on the sleeping girl's arm, Deeks stared hard at his partner's face, trying to get it. His confusion was caught by Kensi who shook her head back and forth a few times.<p>

"I know." She said, keeping her voice low, hoping to not disturb Joy's nap. "It doesn't make sense, but it was Callen's choice."

Deeks still looked confused. "But this is Mr. Untouchable, himself… He doesn't let people get close. Like, ever. Right?"

"Never." Kensi agreed.

"Besides, isn't his partner "Mr. Rules About Safety"? Did either one of them stop to consider that she's, well, I don't know, _sixteen_?"

Kensi leaned back in her chair. "All I can tell you is Callen is serious about protecting her. Sam even thinks he'd go lone wolf if it meant keeping her safe."

"What kind of lone wolf? Like the rescue-Hetty-in-Romania type of lone wolf?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" Kensi suggested playfully.

Marty exhaled and looked down at the unconscious girl who was still curled up on the couch, her head just inches away from him. He was slightly upset that the Senior Agent in Charge would do something foolish enough like stay in contact with a teenager, even if she was the one who had saved his life. Callen continued to surprise him, making judgment calls that were occasionally borderline nuts. Letting Kensi go undercover to catch that psycho narcissist had been nuts. Romania had been _several kinds_ of nuts. And now this. Granted, both of the previous times things had ended up okay, but what if this time it didn't? "I don't think I should." He said, almost mumbling, stowing away his thoughts of Callen's few hazardous decisions. Looking up, he gave her a half-smirk. "He might go Alpha Male on my face."

Kensi let out a quiet laugh. "Where'd that come from?"

Deeks looked away for a moment, then looked back at her with a smile. "I'm not exactly Callen's favorite person, if you hadn't noticed, Pard."

"Whatever." Kensi scoffed. "He has your back just as much as he has mine."

"Not debating that. Just think he prefers everyone else's company a little bit more than mine. That's all."

Kensi surprised him by leaning forward, whispering, "It's because you stole Hetty's attention there for awhile." Her sparkling eyes suggested she was teasing.

Deeks teased right back, grinning. "Right, because Hetty adores and appreciates everything about me."

"Exactly." Kensi rolled her eyes. "If there _were_ favorites, you'd be it."

"Really?"

"…After Callen."

"Ooo. That was rude."

"Only for you." Kensi said, standing up. She stretched her arms and back.

Deeks smiled ruefully at her. Just then, his cell phone vibrated. Kensi watched him carefully pull the phone out of his back pocket, trying not to move suddenly and wake Joy. He looked at the screen and said quietly, "It's Eric." He answered the phone, saying in the same quiet tone, "Deeks."

On the other end, Eric returned the greeting, "Hey, so, Hetty called me and said that LAPD is asking questions. She wondered if you could do your liaise thing and run interference? She also said she wants you to get our cameras out of the Garcia house. Do you remember where they were hidden?"

Deeks replied, "Can do and I do."

"Great. Thanks." Eric said, ending the call.

Marty exhaled softly as he brought down his phone and met eyes with Kensi.

"What?" She asked, trying to measure what the call was about.

"Hetty wants me to do my liaise thing over at the Garcia house. Apparently, the PD is doing their job and putting two-and-two together."

"So what? We're going?" Kensi looked concerned. "That place could be swarming with Thorn agents."

Deeks squinted at her. "Did you just say… 'swarming'?"

Kensi looked unimpressed. "You know what I meant. Deeks, it isn't safe."

"Shh." Marty glanced down at Joy who was still sound asleep. "Hetty only wanted me to go. You two are safer here."

"Okay." Kensi crossed her arms. "But if you get captured, I'm not coming after you."

"Come on, Kens." He raised his phone-laden hand slightly from the couch arm, appealing her reasoning. "Hetty wouldn't have asked if she didn't think it was safe enough."

The look Agent Blye blasted the wall behind and above Deeks' head with was scathing. She shook her head slowly once and then met eyes with him. "This idea of Hetty and Callen's has not gone well since the start. I just don't like it, okay?"

Marty pulled his head back from her. "I see that. Scary."

Kensi exhaled and walked toward the table at the center of the room.

Deeks carefully stood and followed her, leaving the teenager asleep on the couch. "Okay, so you don't like it. So, what am I supposed to do? Disobey Hetty? Think through _that_ logic and tell me _that's_ a good idea."

The female agent turned, but this time she was wearing a half-smirk. "Possibly…"

"As if! So not a good idea. Two words. _Letter. Opener._"

The two stared at each other for a moment before Deeks held out a hand, saying, "Keys."

"What? You're not taking my car!" Kensi drew back.

"But yours has a GPS!" At Kensi's accusing look, he added, "And a really great sound system…"

Kensi shook her head. "No. Not when I potentially might have to take Joy somewhere."

Deeks glanced back at the sleeping teen and sighed. "Fine." He dug his keys out of his pocket. He headed for the door. "Me and my non-GPS-ing, non-bumpin'-or-thumpin' vehicle are leaving, and you can't stop us."

Kensi rolled her eyes and sat down at the table to check her e-mail inbox in the silence, smirking a little over her partner's antics.

* * *

><p>Callen drew in a shaky breath. They were finally letting him rest for a few minutes. He closed his burning eyes. He knew that Sam was standing right next to his examination bed and that his partner wouldn't let anyone near him without making them state what they needed. He was so relieved to be left alone in his room. He was at his limits. He couldn't stand the handling anymore. He barely could stand strangers touching him when he was feeling fine. The fact that his head was killing him, he was thirsty, and he had thrown up whatever had been in his stomach from the day before—which was basically nothing—made him want to snap at anyone laying a hand on him. Yet, over and over again, he swallowed down his misery and just endured. But now, what was left of his patience was gone. They had drawn his blood twice more, had him undergo X-Rays, a CT scan, an EKG, and a very long MRI. Not to mention the procedure on his ankle, which was now throbbing pretty good. Apparently, local anesthetic only lasted about two to three hours. He was working hard not to move his foot around any more than he had to. Anytime it bumped anything, it stung. Bad.<p>

The sheets that Nurse Erika had put on him earlier were suddenly being moved gently around him; being pulled up to cover his shoulders and neck. Callen didn't open his eyes. He knew it was Sam being maternal. It was comforting, in some weird way that he didn't want to think about, or even acknowledge. He focused on relishing the new bit of warmth that was finding his neck. He was chilled and didn't want to admit it to anyone. Trust Sam to be the one to pick up on that.

"You with me?" Sam asked quietly, breaking the silence. His voice was concerned.

"No." Callen breathed, trying not to talk himself into another spell of dry heaves. "Fiji."

There was a pause while Sam processed that Callen had in fact said what he'd heard. "'Fiji'…" Sam repeated. "I hope it's warmer there than it is here." There was a smile in Sam's voice. He appreciated that G was trying to keep a good attitude.

"Much." He said, voice barely above a whisper. Callen had other lines to add to the conversation, but he stopped when his stomach protested and threatened him again. He breathed deeper, trying to get control over the never-ending nausea.

Sam noticed and squeezed his upper arm briefly and murmured, "I have the trash can right here, G."

G managed a faint nod in reply, but had to remain silent for the next few minutes until his stomach quit threatening. Callen relaxed back down onto his bed, letting himself rest as he could. He heard Sam set the trash can back on the floor. His thoughts drifted to a hypothesis on his condition he had heard Dr. Rodgers talking to Hetty about earlier: what if he had been poisoned? Dr. Rodgers had dismissed that idea after the first round of blood tests, to everyone's relief. But now, Callen wondered if the older guy hadn't been mistaken. True, he wasn't feeling terribly worse, but his body was begging for water, and his head and stomach felt as if they both hated him. The Doctor had promised water and pain relief as soon as he had some answers. Callen was ready for answers. Or, to be shot.

"Hang in there, Buddy." Sam murmured lowly, perhaps sensing his dark thoughts.

Callen exhaled sullenly. It wasn't fair that they could read each other's minds so easily. Not fair, at all.

The door was opened and footsteps entered. G opened his weary eyes to watch Hetty and Dr. Rodgers come in with a silver-haired, female doctor who was at least sixty-five years old and not more than five-feet-five-inches tall. They came to stand on the side of the bed that Sam was on. Sam was looking at the woman cautiously. She was wearing a white doctor's coat and had her hair pulled up in a studious bun. She didn't look dangerous. She looked frail and wrinkly. Like she was someone's grandmother.

"Gentlemen," Hetty broke the silence. "This is Dr. Sophia Gentry. Dr. Rodgers asked me to bring her in for her expertise on medical memory erasing..." Callen's heart beat faster as he heard what Hetty was saying. Hetty continued, oblivious, "After discussing matters with her, I think it wise to follow Dr. Rodgers' suggestion and let Dr. Gentry run a non-evasive test for a drug that she says leaves the system with no trace." She met Callen's eyes. "With your permission, of course."

Sam, from beside him, asked simply, "What's the procedure?"

Dr. Gentry, herself, answered him, her voice sounding strong and not a bit shaky, "It's a throat swab. Similar to how a doctor would test for strep. The compound I'm looking for would only show up in throat spit. After it goes through digestion it becomes undetectable again."

"'Again'?" Sam asked. G was grateful that his partner was doing all the question-asking so he didn't have to.

Dr. Gentry nodded. "Yes. The compound that I'm familiar with is usually injected directly into the blood. It is undetectable in the bloodstream because the organs 'catch' it. From the fourth to the twenty-fourth hour, it will show up in throat saliva because one portion of the compound is stripped away… Provided that the individual does not drink or eat anything… If they do, the compound is sped through the system and will only show up for six hours, if lucky."

His partner looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. Callen caught his look and reflected his need to get out of the hospital in his eyes. Sam conveyed he thought G should do it. They had nothing to lose. Everything within Callen didn't want to submit to a test that could gag him and send his stomach into fits again, but he knew Sam was right. They had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. He looked at Dr. Gentry and said quietly, "Do it."

She nodded and gave him a rueful smile, "I'll get a swab and be right back." She left the room, leaving Dr. Rodgers and Hetty trading looks.

After the door closed, Dr. Rodgers picked up Callen's chart and went to the far cabinet area and began writing on it.

Hetty came a few steps closer. Her eyes were suddenly full of concern. Her gaze danced over Callen's face a few times, before she asked him softly, "How are we, Mr. Callen?"

G wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't summon a fake smile, so he simply murmured, "I've been better."

Sam let out a quiet snort from above him, causing the other two to look up at him. "You've also been worse." He said, a touch of a smile on his lips, dark eyes daring G to deny it.

Hetty smiled slightly and reached forward to ever-so-carefully, barely touch Callen's shoulder. She encouraged him with her steady look for a moment. Then, she removed her hand and stepped back, telling Sam, "I'll wait in the hall. Do what you do best, Agent Hanna."

G watched Sam nod and say lowly, "Of course, Hetty."

Hetty curtly nodded, then moved out the door. The massive door had barely closed behind her when Dr. Gentry returned.

She came to G's bedside wearing gloves and a thin face mask, and carrying a half-opened swab. She looked at Callen carefully, seeming to gauge his face for a few moments. Then she said simply, "You're nauseated."

G nodded once, trying to keep his stomach calm for another few minutes.

"Hmm." She was thinking. She looked up at the ceiling and back at Callen, seeming to notice the overhead lights were off and sole source of illumination was coming from the lamps in the room. "With a bad headache."

G gave her one more nod, his head throbbing once, everything within him begging that she not turn on the lights.

"All right, then. Here's what we're going to do. I'm not going to move you, or touch you. All you will need to do is open your mouth really wide for me and not throw up for three seconds. Do you think you can do that?"

G thought it through and gave her a worried look, that, miraculously, she caught.

"How about two seconds?" She tried again.

G gave her a nod. At least she understood. He figured two seconds could be managed.

Not wasting time, Dr. Gentry pointed at Dr. Rodgers, "Ethan, other side of the bed, penlight, and keep it out of his eyes." She looked at Sam. "You, tall guy, keep the trash can ready." Both Sam and Dr. Rodgers were in place in seconds. "You," She said in the same tone, looking at G, "Open your mouth as wide as you dare and think strong thoughts about making the sound 'aaahh.'"

G didn't give himself time to think it over. He opened his mouth and pretended to make the sound. He overrode his gag reflex for the long "One… two…" that Dr. Gentry counted, but as soon as she pulled back with her triumphant "Got it!", his stomach began to heave again. Sam helped him get over the trash can, as Callen painfully reasoned with his stomach that there was nothing left to throw up, so it should stop. After several seconds, his stomach seemed to see his point of view and quit with the exercise. Callen stayed on his side facing Sam and sank into the bed again, worn-out, headache protesting now.

Dr. Gentry looked sympathetically at him from where she stood behind Sam holding the swab carefully. "Sorry, honey. The good news is we're done and we won't have to do that again."

Callen met her eyes as acknowledgement and then shut his eyes, trying to slow the throbbing in his head.

Dr. Rodgers told Sam from behind him, "We think it will only take about five minutes to process. We'll be back quickly."

"Thanks, Doc." Sam said lowly.

Dr. Rodgers left the room, leaving G to his misery in the silence. Sam didn't move from his watch.

* * *

><p>It was actually twenty minutes later when Dr. Rodgers, Dr. Gentry, and Hetty returned. Sam could tell from the look on Hetty's face that she wasn't happy about something. He didn't doubt that there had been a serious discussion going on.<p>

Beside him, still in the same curled-up, laying-on-his-side position, Callen opened his eyes. The discomfort was still lining his face, and Sam was grateful that his partner hadn't been faking any type of okay since they had arrived that morning. That was a G defense mechanism that he didn't care for. He preferred to know exactly how bad his partner was, that way he could properly protect him. This entire situation with Thorn was making him uneasy. He was ready to take them down, if only for their stunts within the past twenty-four hours. He betted he would be doing his nation a great service if he caught even one of these Thorn clowns. But first, they needed to figure out what was up with _his_ backup.

Hetty came closer to Callen and crossed her arms, showing how ruffled she was. She looked at Dr. Gentry who came to stand next to her.

Dr. Gentry met her look and then waited, obviously letting Hetty speak first.

Dr. Rodgers stood near the end of Callen's bed and looked a strange mixture of calm and concerned.

Hetty finally spoke, looking at her Senior Agents. "Dr. Gentry has found the traces she was looking for." At Callen's attempt to move into the seated position, Hetty paused. Sam helped his partner lean back in the bed when he couldn't convince his body to make it upright. Sam put an extra pillow under Callen's head. Callen settled, but looked very unhappy. Hetty continued, "She knows the method that was used to wipe your memories. What is more important, however, is that she is certain she knows how to reverse the procedure." Hetty looked down, exhaled, and then met Callen's eyes with all seriousness. "I do not think that it is a good idea to pursue restoring the memories by any medical means… That said, I know you want answers... The decision will be yours to make."

Sam watched Hetty plead with her eyes to Callen for a few moments, before G asked, "How can it be reversed?"

Dr. Gentry answered him carefully, "They used natural elements to suppress the memories. We will simply use different natural elements to counteract the suppression. Thanks to my time in Sweden with the leading researcher on memory influencing, I know what dosage to use based on your weight and your resting heartbeat speed." Dr. Gentry shrugged her shoulders up and then slowly lowered them. "It's a simple slow injection into a decent vein. There were never any side effects recorded in any of our procedures in Sweden. And each one was successful."

Sam couldn't help voicing the concern he was thinking. "Couldn't you get in trouble for using a medical method that hasn't been proven in the United States?"

"Absolutely." Dr. Gentry nodded. She looked over at Hetty.

Hetty said lowly, "If it is decided to proceed with this, I have told Dr. Gentry that I will protect her and no knowledge of this will be shared… Provided Eric finishes his research on the list of ingredients and I deem them safe enough to continue. Dr. Rodgers has already looked the ingredients over and given his agreement that they should be harmless in the amounts used."

"I don't like it." Sam voiced, looking at G, hoping that he was thinking the same thing.

Callen met his eyes and then looked at Dr. Gentry. Sam saw that he was seriously considering it.

G asked her, "Any memories that were suppressed would come back?" Dr. Gentry nodded. Callen shifted his weak gaze to Hetty. "We need what I know, Hetty."

Sam clenched his jaw. They were going to do this. Now, _he_ felt nauseous.

* * *

><p>Callen was relieved that Dr. Gentry gave him two glasses of water to drink over the next thirty minutes as she put together the injection in the ER Lab. The water had worked like magic to calm his stomach and cause his head to ease. She had predicted that it would, citing that the after-effects of the memory subduing process were much like a hangover, and that if a person didn't eat or drink, it wouldn't dispel for up to a day. She had smiled and patted his leg, adding that she needed him to not be completely dehydrated when she attempted to find a vein. He had tried not to groan realizing that this <em>was<em> going to involve a needle.

Sam had asked multiple times if he was sure he wanted to go through with this. G had finally looked him in the eye and asked what Sam would do if it were him. Sam had fallen silent with the admission in his eyes that he probably would be doing the same thing if it would help them catch Thorn. Callen had sent him the tired smirk that let his partner know he appreciated the "Protective Partner" bit… somewhat.

The minutes that had followed were a flurry of activity as Dr. Gentry and Dr. Rodgers prepared him and his bed for the procedure. Dr. Gentry wanted his arms in restraints just in case the formula worked quicker on him than "typical." Callen had shot her a look of sudden uncertainty, which she had done her best to diffuse by explaining that sometimes memories and flashbacks made people want to swing their arms around. She didn't want himself possibly hurting himself on the needle she was going to use, or on anything else. They would just be around his upper arms and his wrists. And she promised that they would release him as soon as he was lying still on the bed. It hadn't actually assured G at all. He loathed restraints; all types and all forms. The only reassurance that he could gain was from the fact that he could escape hospital restraints if he had to… Especially if they were only doing his arms.

Dr. Gentry asked Sam if he would stand by the bed's foot so that she could be at Callen's side. Sam had reluctantly agreed to. Hetty stood near the massive door of the room, arms crossed and watching everything with an unreadable look on her face. Dr. Gentry had asked Dr. Rodger's to be on the opposite side of the bed as an extra set of eyes and as backup help if she should need it.

Then, Dr. Gentry was rubbing the crook of his arm with alcohol that felt cold when she stopped. G was surprised that she had been carrying the injection in her white coat pocket the whole time, and that she was covering it with her hand when she placed it next to his arm. "Eyes on the ceiling, young man." She told him with a touch of cheekiness in her voice. "You watching me will not do anything but make you nervous."

G didn't believe in taking eyes off of dangerous things unless it was to his benefit, but since it was a grandmotherly doctor telling him, he made an exception and looked up at the ceiling that was still lamp-lit.

The needle entering his arm he barely felt, but the contents burned as Dr. Gentry slowly emptied them into his vein. G tried not to think about it, but after many seconds of the burning, he breathed out, "Ow."

"Nearly done, hon." Dr. Gentry said quietly. It was another set of seconds before she added, "There we go."

Callen felt the burning go up his arm and into his chest, then he lost track of it. He brought his eyes down to find Sam's for a few seconds of communicating that maybe this was a bad idea, but it was too late now. Sam didn't find him amusing and his gaze urged him to be calm.

The effects were delayed for maybe another thirty seconds, but once they started, they were like drowning.

* * *

><p>He remembered.<p>

All the memories he had ever had were flashing though his mind like a roller coaster. And, just like a roller coaster, he felt suddenly sick and out-of-control. He wanted off!

His nausea grew as his eyes were no longer feeding him his sight of his hospital room. The memories were all he could see.

_He saw a foster family's dog hit by a car in front of him, he saw children, teenagers, and adults being rude and mean to him; but he also saw other kids, teens, and adults being kind and loving to him, nice people he had forgotten among the mean ones… _

_He saw Amy in more vivid detail, and in many more memories of them playing together. They had been close. Inseparable. She had hated being away from him, even while having to help with chores… _

_And, there was their Mother, Clara... She was constantly changing her hair color and clothing styles. He recognized her most by her scent. It was a particular perfume that she always wore. The smell told him not to be afraid, even if she looked different, it was still Mother… _

_And then, there was a man. A man who made him feel safe when he was around. G plainly saw himself being flung into the air and caught by this man, his younger self squealing with delight and laughing to the point he couldn't breathe. The man would stop and pull him close, grinning, cuddling him. "Breathe, son." He heard the man say, as G drank in the safety of his arms. Then, he saw the man reading him children's books, taking extra care to do all the voices... G watched through tears as he was tucked into bed by this man. Not just once. But every night. This man had been around as far back as he could remember… _

_A memory surfaced of the man telling him happily, "Baby brother is going to be a big brother!" G was clapping his small hands, and he saw Amy touching their mother's stomach and giggling. Their mother was laughing, too. He was going to be a big brother? But, Amy had called him the baby… _

G drank it all in with confusion.

_In the following memories, the man had disappeared. Mother had become sad. She had lost weight. And she had taken him and Amy on a long airplane ride soon after. Then she was taking him to the beach... _

Callen wanted it all to stop as he watched his mother being killed by the Comescu. He didn't want to live this again!

_He had blacked out, as a child, and when he had awoken, he was with new people, nice people, who were taking him on a long plane trip again. They told him very little about his mother and Amy, but they had toys to keep him interested... _

_Mother and Amy had faded from his mind as it seemed each new day he had some new trauma to adjust to, some new person, some new rule, some new place… _

_He cried when he was allowed to, and didn't when he wasn't… _

_The foster homes and orphanages as memories filed through his mind quickly, filled again with both joyful and excruciatingly painful things… _

Then, the memories were taking him to the working part of his life. Memories he had worked to forget began playing in front of him.

_Being in the armed forces, losing buddies, being a loner, getting to work in the FBI and the CIA, losing partners, gaining trust as he solved cases, but being stone-walled when it didn't make sense... _

_Then, he watched when Hetty was recruiting him to NCIS OSP… _

_He watched himself following Macy's orders, and relived his shooting again, this time in much more vivid detail… _

He wanted to scream.

_Then, his return to find Hetty had replaced Macy... _

All of it played out perfectly in an overwhelming speed. Was he even breathing anymore? He was about to throw up.

_Alina Rostoff's death… _

_Dom's death… _

_Joy saving his life… _

_Hetty going to the Comescu's and him going after her. Remembering the Black Sea. Rescuing her without flinching... _

_Hetty's subsequent stone-walling and forcing the team to work with Hunter... _

_His confronting Hetty and her finally telling him what she knew of his mother. Finally..._

_Then... _

Callen's breath caught again as he watched.

_He saw on his iPhone screen that Joy was calling him early one morning. This morning! He heard her voice telling him they were in her house! He drove recklessly to her house and helped her get out, but there was no way she'd escape if he didn't cover her… _

_He had underestimated how persistent Thorn was. He woke up in their custody… _

...He remembered!

_The guy with the hidden Irish accent. His two lackeys... _

_They called themselves "Pure"... _

_And they put a tracker in his ankle to follow him to the girl. They had said he wouldn't remember them, and then they'd given him a painful injection that had knocked him out until he'd awoken in the alley with a headache and stomachache… _

_Sam had come, worried and cautious, as soon as he had been able to call him on a borrowed cell phone..._

The memory flashes finally slowed, and his heart with them.

* * *

><p>Hetty was ready to let both doctors have it with how emotionally unstable Callen had become with Dr. Gentry's so-called harmless natural ingredients, when Callen suddenly stopped moving and sank into the bed, no longer pulling against the arm restraints. She watched him breathe deeply, tears in his eyes, as he lay looking into space, trembling slightly. His stare was such that no one else in the room existed. Hetty had seen Callen distressed over dreams before. Sometimes late at night when he believed he was the only one still at the office. But those instances didn't come close to comparing to the reliving of memories that he had just gone through. Either Thorn had done something horrific to her Agent, or that had not gone according to plan. Hetty swallowed down her words as Dr. Gentry was moving from lying the empty injection on a nearby cabinet to his side.<p>

Dr. Gentry patted Callen's arm as she removed her stethoscope and moved to listen to his heart. Dr. Rodgers released Callen's restrained arm on his side. Sam stepped up next to Dr. Gentry and began releasing G's other arm. Hetty didn't approve of the pink marks on his skin where they had held on.

Returning her stethoscope to her pocket, Dr. Gentry smiled wanly at the younger man. "Keep breathing deep, son." She told him kindly, seeing him blink hard a few times. "The flashbacks will slow down now and return later. And, they will dissipate if you recall them, acknowledge them, and stay relaxed. Being stressed will keep them at an overwhelming level, so concentrate on the accepting and the relaxing..."

Callen didn't seem to hear her, as he stared blankly, completely preoccupied with what was going on inside his world.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Hetty demanded quietly, working to withhold her anger, when the doctor turned towards her.

Dr. Gentry nodded sincerely. "I've seen that exact thing happen in each case. Give him a few minutes to gather himself, and the memories that were 'erased' will be back."

Hetty breathed out, trying to calm down. She gave the other woman a curt nod and moved away from her to stand beside Sam, who was helping Dr. Rodgers get Callen to drink more water.

The sips of water seemed to help Callen get a grip on reality. When Sam lowered him to lie back down, G brought his hands up and rubbed at his eyes.

"Mr. Callen?" Hetty asked cautiously, unsure if he would answer her or not.

To her delight and concern, he did:

"I _remember, _Hetty… _All_ of it."


	9. Liaise

Chapter 9: Liaise

5:10 PM

Deeks arrived at the Garcia house much later than he'd hoped the trip would take. Traffic was flaring up early today, and he hadn't taken the least busy route. He turned down the radio as he pulled in front of the three-story mansion home. Glancing around, he saw that the home's front door was closed, and that there wasn't anyone in sight. _PD must've been informed by someone that this is our scene._ Marty thought as he undid his seatbelt and climbed out of his car. If there weren't any of the LAPD to straighten out, that left him with the simple task of retrieving the cameras.

Deeks walked toward the home looking up and down the street. He was impressed at the landscaping that adorned each and every large home, especially the crazy-huge, dark and sparkly decorative granite planters on the biggest home at the end of the cul-de-sac. He betted these homeowners spent thousands regularly on keeping their yards looking like paradise had sneezed on them. Marty half-smiled at the joke he'd just made, while taking note that all of the homes looked abandoned. There was not a soul in sight. _It's what the alarm systems are for: protecting the expensive goods while everyone's making money to buy more expensive goods. Oh, to be rich and have snazzy stuff I'd never get the time to enjoy because I'm so busy making money…_

The detective reached the front door and didn't hesitate to gain entrance by turning the handle. Apparently the LAPD hadn't thought to lock the front door to the Garcia's home. He'd have to mention that to someone. It spoke volumes of not caring. So typical. Deeks stepped into the entryway and carefully left the door cracked behind him. He paused to put on a pair of black gloves, remembering that Hetty had once warned him that leaving his fingerprints behind was unacceptable. She had told him if he didn't use his gloves, she would have his fingerprints removed, which she assured him was an extremely painful process. He hadn't forgotten since. Hetty was too scary to chance it.

He headed for the back corner of the formal living area. It took him seconds to find the camera that Callen had installed on a bookshelf in a fake book. Marty carefully unplugged it and the audio that went with it. Deeks took all of the items, being sure to leave the bookshelf looking just as inconspicuous as before.

Next, he headed for the living room that was deeper in the house. Setting what he held on the extravagant and comfortable-looking couch, he looked around until he found the next camera set on the entertainment center mingled in with some fake greenery. He dutifully got it down, gathered up what he had put on the couch, and went to the large kitchen, in search of a plastic bag that he could use to carry all of the equipment. He still had the basement to do and the two upper stories.

Deeks found what he needed in the pantry: a strong plastic bag that came from a box that was blatant in guaranteeing its bags would not rip or tear. He easily put the camera and audio supplies into the bag.

Suddenly, there were sounds coming from the front door. Deeks froze, listening.

There were footsteps and two low voices murmuring to each other. The sounds were headed for the living room.

Thinking quickly, Deeks knew that this could go badly if this was the Thorn operatives returning. He hoped it wasn't, because that would make his partner right and himself wrong… That would suck.

His options played through his mind. Duck out of the kitchen and hide, or he could face them and declare who he was, or he could pretend he was part of the family and demand who they were...

The voices were inching closer. They sounded as if they were stopping in the living room to discuss something.

Deeks could tell now that it was two people. He was already outnumbered. He hoped he wasn't outgunned... Quietly, he put the bag he was holding down on the counter top, managing to do it noiselessly. He quietly pulled out his gun, deciding to leave his badge for later. Stepping around the corner, he brought his gun out and said loudly, "LAPD!"

His eyes landed on two surprised LAPD officers, who immediately went for their guns. They froze with their hands on their weapons as they took in the sight before them. The one on the left was a brunette with large brown eyes, a female officer dressed in her black uniform. The one on the right was a blonde haired man, about the height of Deeks, but much older. Deeks placed the woman to be about twenty-eight years old. The man was the least forty-five. Deeks lowered his weapon carefully, asking, "LAPD? Where have you two been?"

The man spoke tensely, "We just got here. We thought the home was deserted. You're LAPD, too?"

Deeks holstered his weapon, relaxing. "Detective Marty Deeks."

Both of the officers loosened up. "I'm Lieutenant Robert Spencer." The man said. "This is Officer Grace Hamilton. We were unaware that anyone else was working on this case."

"Yeah well, I'm actually assisting in another investigation. Dr. Garcia is under surveillance for that case, and we are checking to see if this morning's ruckus had anything to do with it." Deeks was loath to give out any extra information; he didn't want the LAPD getting too involved. He hoped that this Lt. Spencer wouldn't give him any trouble. He hated pulling the Hetty Card on the PD until he had to.

Lt. Spencer traded a glance with Officer Hamilton. He then looked at Deeks and asked, "Anything we can do to help, Detective? We've been trying to locate Dr. Garcia, but no luck. We know he had a daughter, but we can't seem to find her, either. I don't suppose you know where—"

"Nope!" Deeks smiled at them and motioned with his hand pointing towards the kitchen. "I'm just after the cameras." He turned for the kitchen.

"'Cameras'?" Lt. Spencer echoed in disbelief. "Who ordered that?"

"Trust me, buddy, it's so much higher than your pay grade." Deeks said, smile growing as he entered the kitchen. They stayed behind him in the living room, waiting. Marty gathered the cameras and lines in the bag. He came out of the kitchen and gave the two dumb-struck officers a nod. "I'll just finish gathering this stuff, then I'll be out of your hair. Promise." He walked to the stairs to go up to the second floor.

The Lieutenant gathered himself enough to ask him, "How long have you been watching these people?"

Marty paused. He really didn't want to get chatty with these guys. He wanted to get back to his partner and Joy. Mainly, his partner. Explaining things in detail would only slow him down. He answered the officer, "Long enough."

Officer Hamilton was glaring at him over his answer. Lt. Spencer just lifted his chin a little, obviously perturbed that he wasn't getting more information.

Marty flashed them his scaled-down genuine smile and went up the stairs, leaving the two LAPD officers in the living room.

* * *

><p>Watching the Detective disappear up the stairs, the two LAPD officers looked at each other. Officer Hamilton looked confused, and Lt. Spencer allowed an astonished disbelief to settle on his features.<p>

Lt. Spencer spoke first, his voice a hushed tone, "Was that who I think it was?" He looked at Hamilton.

"Who?" She asked in a whisper.

He glanced back at the stairs, as if he suspected Detective Deeks to return suddenly, although they could hear his footfalls headed up to the third floor. "It can't be… But it is… Has to be. Looks _just_ like…"

"Who?" She asked again, a little more forcefully, not understanding what her senior officer was going on about.

Lt. Spencer met her eyes. "Brandel's son."

"Who?"

A reverent look came over his face, his eyes showing he was thinking of long ago. "Brandel was one of our best agents ever. Of course, that's not the name we called..." The older man trailed off, thinking hard. "We _have_ to take him back with us. He knows what's going on. Agent One will want to talk to him."

The young woman's eyes narrowed. "What if there are cameras that are watching what we do?" She asked him lowly, almost whispering. "What if he has buddies nearby?"

The man shook his head slowly. "Doesn't matter."

The two shared a look that conveyed a whole lot more than they had said. The young woman nodded, and walked to the front door. She put her hands on her hips and looked as if she was watching the street outside. The older man stooped down and lifted his left pant leg, revealing a small black weapon. He pulled it out and stood to his feet.

* * *

><p>Deeks found all the cameras that were hidden in the main areas of both the second and third stories of the Garcia mansion. The fact that Joy's father hadn't found any of the video cameras spoke of Callen's incredible camera-hiding skills. Marty was particularly impressed with how he had placed one camera; utilizing a shadow well caused naturally by a lamp that was obviously kept on most daylight hours. At night, the tiny camera was invisible, too. <em>Crazy mad skills<em>, was all he could think about Callen's abilities.

He finally finished gathering the upstairs cameras, which included finding Joy's cell phone placed in her stuffed animal net that hung directly beside her window. She had dumped it in there before escaping with Callen, was Marty's guess. He had paused to shut it completely down and take out the battery, just in case it was being tracked. He took it along since they'd planned to use her phone's video camera if Thorn made it to her bedroom.

He headed downstairs, whistling a few notes so as not to startle the LAPD officers.

They both looked at him as he came back into the living room. Lt. Spencer was talking on his phone, and Officer Hamilton was over by the entryway, frowning at him as if she didn't trust him.

Deeks flashed her a smile. He motioned with his free hand toward the basement stairs. "Just have the basement left, then I'll be out of your way."

Officer Hamilton gave him a curt nod, and Lt. Spencer motioned him on with his free hand.

He headed for the basement stairs.

Suddenly, Deeks felt a sharp sting hit him in the upper arm. He flinched away from it, at the same time looking down at it, exclaiming, "Ow! _What_ the-" The moment he realized he was seeing at a dart-like thing sticking out of his arm, pinning his shirt to him, he glanced up to see the taller LAPD officer pointing a black weapon at him. Marty panicked as he felt consciousness slipping from him instantly. _Thorn! _He thought in distress.

He passed out before he hit the floor.

* * *

><p>Hetty was not pleased. She was worried. She placed her hands in her lap and looked down at them. She was grateful for the chair Sam had brought to Callen's bedside for her to sit in. Sometimes this job and this "family" made her feel older than she really was. <em>What have I done? <em>She thought again to herself for the tenth time.

She raised her eyes to the scene unfolding before her. Sam was on the other side of Callen's bed, leaning over the side bar until he was about eleven inches from his partner's face. He was trying to help Callen get through the flashbacks that were still occurring, but neither of them knew if he was actually helping.

Callen had attempted to tell Hetty what he remembered about Thorn, gotten the word "pure" out, and then been lost to another wave of the memories, his eyes tracking back and forth, like he was trying to see too much with his breathing becoming labored. He couldn't speak and his eyes held a mixture of recognition and deep fear in them. Hetty had watched, holding her breath, for long moments while he seemed to have no control over any of it. She had seen Callen push back flashbacks before. But these seemed to be at a heightened level. She was even more concerned now that her Senior Agent was reliving some horrible situation with that blasted Thorn. Sam had then reached to take a hold of his partner's shoulder and softly said his name several times, as if trying to pull Callen back with his voice.

It was working now, as Callen was breathing a little easier and was able to look up at Sam every once in awhile.

Hetty contemplated going to retrieve one of the doctors. It had been almost seven minutes. She was gravely hoping that she hadn't just given her consent to some sort of memory, or, God forbid, brain damage for Callen.

Sam said lowly, "If it helps, give me one word that describes what you're seeing."

Hetty was surprised to see Callen give Sam a weak nod, acknowledging him. She sat forward a little in her chair. Trust Sam to be the best one to offer help to Callen. The man truly was the anchor for the orphan.

Callen said quietly, "Home."

"Which home?" Sam asked, being equally as quiet. "Romania?"

"Don't know." Callen breathed, staring into nothingness as if someone was floating above him. "Amy and Mom are there…" Callen took a breath, suddenly sounding lost. "…and Dad…"

Hetty felt a chill go up her spine. Sam looked over her with questioning eyes, as if hoping she could give him some information about how to respond. Hetty minutely shook her head slowly. She could offer him nothing. All she had was an alias for Callen's father. It wasn't a real name, and there weren't any files or photos that she could get her hands on to be able to show Callen. No real information. Maybe Callen was actually remembering the man from his childhood. It was a shocking thought… Callen would have been so young when he'd have last seen him… As Sam returned his attention to Callen, Hetty realized the full scope of what was happening. _Callen is regaining all of his memories… from his entire life… Oh bloody hell. What have I done?_

* * *

><p>Marty came back to his senses suddenly, letting out a groan. His head pounded. He worked to remember where he was as he opened his eyes a bit. Painful bright lights made him close his eyes again in a hurry. He wasn't able to do more than muffle the brief sound of agony that escaped.<p>

_Where am I?_

He tried to bring his hands up to cover his eyes. When he couldn't, it broke through the fog he was in like a knife. He tried to blink his eyes open to see, ignoring the throbbing headache. He was surprised to find himself strapped down on a waist-high, cold, metal table in a white room. He tested the restraints quickly. _Crap._ He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. _What happened?_

"Good evening, Marty."

Deeks squinted to see across the room. A man had been hiding in a shadow, or had just come in through a door, he wasn't sure which. The man was in his forties, had black hair and light skin, was pretty tall and looked in shape. He was leaning against the wall, watching him. There was a sick look of power in his eyes.

In that instant, Deeks remembered. _Thorn._ He couldn't help how he narrowed his eyes at the man. _If I wasn't a fan of them before, I'm definitely not a fan now._ He thought. Then, he briefly wondered if this was the same guy who had held Callen captive. It was amazing that the man was still moving around and breathing… There was something about this guy's oozing pride that made one want to punch him in the face…

"Now, now, now, Marty." The man chided. "We're practically family. No need to be spiteful."

_Definitely want to punch him in the face... _Deeks clenched his jaw on the sassy remarks he was ready to fling at this guy. He needed to make it out of this alive, preferably, and being sassy might not play to his favor seeing his position. He waited, staring at the man.

The man tilted his head. "Well, now. I'm disappointed. Your LAPD file says you like to do a lot of talking. Obviously, they were mistaken. Or, perhaps I haven't broken the ice properly…" The man pushed off the wall and strode over to him, as if there was nothing awkward about Deeks being tied down on a metal table before him. "My name is irrelevant, but my organization is not. We call ourselves Pure. We are the agency that trumps all agencies. Why? Because not even the United States Government knows we exist… We move beneath all radars and change the course of history before it happens, using individuals who will never remember us. We are history makers. And we prefer to keep things 'pure' by using the ideals of our founding fathers. Hence, the name."

"Fas-cin-a-ting." Deeks replied sarcastically, staring at the man. This was getting worse by the moment. This guy was completely convinced that their so-called agency was righteous; and, Marty was willing to bet, the man thought himself to be some sort of hero, too. _Not good. Not good at all._ "So, you going to tell me why I'm here?"

The man grinned in a satisfied way, ignoring the sarcasm. "You're here because one of my agents recognized you… You see, we know you. Pure and you go way back, Marty. You just don't know it."

Marty narrowed his eyes, trying to process what the man in front of him was saying. He didn't care for where this seemed to be heading. He was in danger. He either needed to escape or he needed to protect Kensi and Joy for as long as possible. He told the man simply, "I'm sorry for whichever of your guys I got thrown in jail. Now, will you please let me go? This table… is kinda… not cushy—"

The man let out a patronizing chuckle. "Sorry. I _would_ let you go, but I can't until my colleagues are certain you won't get violent…" The man stepped to a table beyond Deek's field of vision, and then came back to the table side, holding a large tablet, like the bigger one Nell used frequently in Ops. "You have never caught one of us, Detective. We are way too good for that… No, _this_ is why we go way back."

The man turned the tablet around, showing him an image it. Marty's breath caught.

_Is that…? _

The man used his finger to swipe across the screen and another picture came up. Marty's breathing returned, but this time it was speeding up.

_No…_

The man again changed the picture, this time adding, "Or, should I say, '_she_ is why we go way back'?"

The first two photos had been close-ups of his biological mother. Photos he had never seen before. The third photo was an early family photo, with his father, mother, and him at four-year-old. He had only seen that photo a handful of times before his father had destroyed it while he was little. "Where did you get these pictures?" Deeks asked him, voice low; a small bit of fear coming over him.

"They are from your mother. Well, 'your mother' in title, anyway… Her real name was Hannah, Agent Thirty-Nine, and she was a Pure agent."

Deeks felt his eyes flash. "You're lying!" _There's no way!_

The man crossed his arms, dangling the tablet that still showed Marty's family on it from one hand. "I'm not lying." He let out a sigh. "What about this: I tell you the whole story of Hannah, your mother… and her mission… and your life… as if you've never heard it before, and then we can talk about a proposition I have for you… Does that work for you?"

Marty stayed silent, gritting his teeth. _Do I want to hear this? Did this man really know my mother? Do I really have a choice? _Inside of him, a weird sensation was happening… It was as if someone who he thought loved him completely might be betraying him before his very eyes. He began to fight against letting the feeling of betrayal be associated anywhere near the knowledge of his deceased mother.

The man took Deeks' silence as an affirmative. "She was an incredible woman." The man began, a slight accent emerging in his voice. "I met her when she was brought into Pure by my predecessor. Hannah was only eighteen, but she made it through our elite training before she was twenty. She was incredible. A hard worker. She became an expert at being natural in undercover situations… It's why she was picked for the mission." The man began to pace a little as he spoke.

Marty didn't take his distrusting eyes off of him. _Surely this is all a lie... Mom was a normal mom, no weirdness, and she loved me… Because I was her Marty. This is all a lie!_

The man continued. "The mission was for her to get married to a man named Gordon John Brandel. We needed her that close to Brandel so we could gain access to a certain friend of his. That certain friend worked for an unnamed, secret government agency." The man paused in his pacing, looking at him and adding, "This certain friend was a gold mine of information, not just about the secret workings of the United States government, but also of several overseas missions that involved countries that were believed to be peaceful nations, but actually were not… Anyway." The Pure agent continued his pacing. "Hannah was successful. She became Jennifer Ann Brandel, the happily married wife. She was able to gain access to this 'friend' in less than two months. It was about a month after that when we realized we had hit pay dirt, so to speak. This man had married a woman in secret. But _she_ wasn't just any woman, just like 'Jennifer' wasn't just any woman. He had married another secret agent…" The man scratched the back of his head and kept pacing as he told the story.

Marty listened rigidly; his heart was going through motions of complete distrust and thoughts of 'what if this is true?' in a quick, flip-flopping manner.

"This secret agent woman ended up giving us more information than we could've dreamed. She worked for the CIA and was a born superspy. These two, the woman and Brandel's agent friend, met in Romania while on a mission there. They fell in love and then moved to the states… She had a young daughter from before, and together, they had a son here. Her children were her only true weaknesses…"

Marty couldn't breathe. _What does this have to do with me?_

The man with the accent continued, "The two thought the Brandel's were their best friends. They would confide a little in Gordon and 'Jennifer,' and 'Jennifer' would report everything to us. None of them ever discovered Pure or found out that 'Jennifer' wasn't who she said she was. It was a tribute to Hannah's skills, really. Dodging spies is hard and risky business."

Deeks found himself glaring at the man. "It's not true." He said lowly, his voice full of anger.

"It's rude to interrupt, Marty." The man told him, becoming still and crossing his arms. He ignored Marty's glare and continued, "Eventually, the man was killed while on a short mission, leaving the CIA agent and her children vulnerable. And, what was worse, she was pregnant again. Sad, sad state of events. Anyway, she, the widow, continued to see the Brandel's as a source of comfort, and while she was in this highly emotional state, she gave Jennifer Brandel valuable information about many powerhouse families in Romania, since, come to find out, she was hiding from them…"

'_Powerhouse families in Romania'?_ Marty couldn't help the memories from the recent trip to save Hetty in Romania from surfacing. Facing the Comescu Family had been one of the most dangerous things he had ever taken part in. It had been hard to get close enough to the Comescu to find Hetty, and then even harder getting out, since Hetty had been shot. He hadn't slept well until they were back in LA. Deeks swallowed. His heart kept racing and his head was spinning. _But, what does all of this have to do with me?_

"When she had her last child, she felt the need to return to Romania to take care of some final business. She was desperate to protect her children, especially the two-week-old. She asked the Brandel's to illegally adopt her newborn, promising to return for him one day. Of course, they agreed to it… Do you know who that newborn was, Marty?"

Marty trembled, answering defiantly, fear and anger coursing through him, "No."

"You." The man told him, enjoying this. "You became Marty Brandel. And no sooner had you become a Brandel than your biological mother took the other two children with her back to Romania."

Marty looked away, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach. Repeatedly. He wanted to rage and scream at the man how it wasn't true, but, the more he listened to what he was saying, the more memories were surfacing that pointed to the fact that he might be telling the truth. Deeks felt he was going to pass out he was breathing so erratically. He tried to calm down. It felt like his entire world was being ripped from him and shredded to pieces as he watched.

The man kept on. "As your new parents, the huge differences began to surface in the marriage. Gordon was already fond of his alcohol, but, to cope with having a son, he began to drink even more. 'Jennifer' stayed in place in case your mother should return and to continue getting information from Gordon's military friends; raising you and putting up with Gordon even though he drove her nuts. Everyone saw you as the son of a drunkard and a perfectionist."

Tears were beginning to push at Marty's eyes. He remembered the screaming matches vividly. He had hated Gordon for making his mother angry so often. Hated him enough to come to his mom's aid a few times as a young child and get backhanded for it.

"It was too bad that the drunkard couldn't be controlled. He pried into your mother's life until he became a nuisance. Gordon was the reason she died. At least, died to you. We faked her death to get her out and away from him."

Deeks felt dizzy and sick. He remembered his mother's funeral. His world had died that day, since she was the happiest part of it. He had cried for days, until Gordon had threatened his life if he caught him in tears again. From then on, he had cried only when he was alone. He had missed his mom so much he had thought he was going to die from the pain. _It… was all… fake?_

"It was about two years later that you shot Gordon Brandel in self-defense and sent him to jail." The man shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "We stopped keeping tabs on you when you entered the foster system and were adopted by that Deeks woman."

Marty felt like he was lost and alone in a hurricane. He was shaking, barely keeping himself together. He wanted it all to be a lie. Wanted every word to be a lie. But, it didn't seem like it was anymore. Too many questions that had gone unanswered all his life had just been answered. _Maybe it's all true. _He stayed silent for a few moments, pushing back tears, ignoring the stupid restraints and the throbbing headache. Adding things up, his true mother had still abandoned him, and asked 'Mrs. Brandel' to care for him. She was the only one he really cared about. They had faked her funeral? "My mother is alive?"

The man tilted his head and told him simply, "Your fake mother, Hannah, actually died last year on a mission."

_Of course._ Marty thought bitterly. It felt like losing her all over again: the pain in his chest, wanting so badly to hug her again, and feel her stroke his hair… It all hurt. She had been alive all this time. Choosing to stay away from him. _Rejecting him._ And now, she had died _again_ to him again. _Of course_. Was all he could think to himself as his eyes finally blurred with tears.

"Your biological mother died not too long after she returned to Romania. She was shot on a Black Sea beach in front of your brother. Tragic, really. Our informant inside the Comescu Family reported it." The man chuckled. "Those powerhouse families in Romania do have their usefulness..."

Stunned, Marty's chest began to close in on him. The mention of the Black Sea was freaking him out. _My brother? _Brother. Callen? Callen recognized the Black Sea… And Callen had freaked out when he had been on the beach… _Is he…?_ No. He wasn't related to Callen in some way, was he? Pushing the thoughts back, he asked, "What were my real parents' names?"

"Both she and your biological father only ever used aliases. The names they gave us were Mary and Stephen Carmichael. We were unable to ever get their real names."

_Mary and Stephen Carmichael…_ Deeks repeated the name in his mind that was full of turmoil. There was something strangely comforting about it.

The man was speaking again, softly, coming another step closer. "Your real father wasn't a drunkard, Marty. He was one of the best agents of his time. An incredible operator. A genius in undercover work. A genius, period. He was highly favored by all branches of the US Government. Willing to shed his blood for his cause. Your biological mother was just as incredible. She was fast, intelligent, and had an incredible memory." The man pointed a finger at Deeks' chest, "That same blood flows through your veins. You have those same skills. Because of that, I want you to join us. Become the very best agent in Pure. I can help you hone your skills. You can help us uphold our sacred mission. Getting to be a ghost, but in control of the United States."

Marty tried to push back the emotions that were suffocating him. _These monsters want me to join them!_ There was something else more pressing on his mind. The strangled words barely came out, "What was my brother's name?"

The man waved a hand of dismissal. "Oh, I don't know. That information wasn't recorded because we didn't need your mother for anything after your father died and she returned to Romania. Come now, Marty, do you hear what I'm offering you?"

"I wanna see her." Marty persisted in needing his answers, his voice full of every emotion he was feeling.

"Who?" The man looked annoyed at this new request.

"My… real… mother. I want to see a picture of her." Marty finally met the man's eyes with his increasingly red ones. A single tear had fallen, but the rest he had managed to hold back.

The man rolled his eyes and touched the tablet screen a few times until a single photograph of a dinner party became large. He held it above him for him to see.

In the photo, Deeks recognized the Brandel's, who he had been told were his parents. Mr. Brandel was sitting in a chair next to Mrs. Brandel, at a well-set table. He was in a tuxedo and she was in a teal cocktail dress. Behind them were two individuals. A man in a tuxedo with dirty blonde hair and striking blue eyes, who looked in-charge, next to a woman in a red dress with beautiful black hair and lovely blue eyes. Deeks felt his emotions overcoming him. The tears started falling. The man had the same face shape as he did, and somehow, the same brow bones as he _and_ Callen. The woman had the same nose and mouth and hairline as Callen, but the same eyes of them both. Suddenly, Deeks remembered the first time he had met Callen. And the first time he, Callen, Sam, and Kensi had sat around the table at the Boat House. Looking at Callen's eyes had bothered him a lot. He had thought it was because the guy was so full of confidence and authority. Now, he realized that it had bothered him because it was like looking at his own eyes in a mirror. _Oh, dear Lord… Are we brothers?_


	10. Fern

Chapter 10: Fern

6:01 PM

Marty couldn't breathe, or even form coherent thoughts. All he could do is grasp at whatever truths had been solid before this, and try to hold on while the hurricane of his emotions raged on. Over and over again his thoughts landed on Henrietta Lange, the woman who had invited him to be a part of the NCIS OSP Team, even when the Team had been apprehensive of him. She had given him her reasons on why she had chosen him over all the others she could've, but now he saw it all with different eyes. What if Hetty had suspected something? What if she had known all along? What if she had guessed that he was a relative of Callen's? What was she trying to do? Break them to each other slowly?

The cold panic whirled around him again. _Am I _really_ related to _THE_ G Callen? What the hell—it can't be—this has got to be an elaborate trick! I NEED this to be a trick… _ Marty closed his teary eyes, no longer able to listen to the man who was talking to him. He felt nauseous in his confusion. His history was what made him who he is. If that history was a lie—parents, death, pain—where did that leave him? With a whole _new_ history of parents, death, and pain?

Deeks heard the man stop talking, sigh, and leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Deeks was grateful he was gone. His head hurt more than it did before. It was pounding behind his eyes and in his temples.

He just needed his world to stop spinning…

_If this is true, which it still might not be, how many parents did I lose? _Marty tried to think logically to help gather himself. _He said I lost my biological father when he died in the field as an agent… Sounds like Callen's danger-magnet disposition… Maybe they _are_ related, even if I'm not... _Marty allowed himself a reprieve in his emotions to crack the weak joke. It helped a little. He took a steadying breath of air. The notion of him finding Callen's father, yet not his own, helped a little, as well. _The biological mother left, and then was murdered. Oh yeah, and took two of the three kids with her… Nothing like leaving a child behind… _Another annoying tear escaped. Marty wished his hands were untied so he could wipe it away. …_A fake adoptive mother chose to fake her death to get away from the third child, me, and the fake adoptive father, who obviously hated being a father and was a drunkard until he forced said child, me, to shoot him and send him to jail. _Marty opened his blurry eyes to stare at the ceiling. _But then, after it all, there was Ms. Deeks. The one who adopted me out of foster care, gave me stability, encouraged me to be the best man I could, and died of old age, leaving me enough money from her estate to land on my feet well. _Marty breathed out in a mixture of amusement and sadness. _The only one who truly wanted me was a stranger. She was the only one who stayed until the end… Damn, I thought this "I'm a messed-up kid" crap was supposed to end when I became an adult! _

Finally, he felt a little break in the emotional storm. With it, some unexpected anger throbbed from the depths of his chest. Marty blinked his eyes dry, clenching his jaw, his look hardening as he stared at the ceiling. _This is messed up. Parents are the dumbest invention ever. _He hated it. He hated that the parents who were _supposed_ to love and protect him hadn't done anything of the sort. Strong feelings of being alone and rejected, ones he hadn't felt since he was a teenager, grew in his chest. He knew what thoughts those feelings led to. He had thought the thoughts several times both as a child and a teenager and couldn't help the stony admission from going through his mind as loud as a freight train:

_Just proves that I'm the problem. _

It was a silly thought, he knew, but he had yet to be proven wrong. If anything, others had recognized that he was trouble and either left him alone or stayed around out of pity. The only ones who had yet to display either was the Team he was a part of now. They wanted him around because he fit in with their group of eliteness and accented them well, as only a normal, always-trying, fun-loving person could.

What would happen when it was discovered he might be Callen's brother? Would they keep him? Or would he become the problem that needed to be rejected? It didn't take much work to imagine Hetty telling him that there couldn't be two family members on the same team. It was too dangerous. Especially since they all knew that _he_ was the weakest link. After he had been shot by the terrorists that wanted Kensi, he had redoubled his efforts to become harder to track, not wanting to be the one used to get to the Team again. But, Hetty would undoubtedly take into consideration that what happened in the past _could_ happen again.

_If she asks me to leave, I will, but, crap, I'll be a mess for awhile trying to forget about them… Especially if Callen…_

Marty let out a breath.

He couldn't even think it. Callen was not a chatty kind of guy. Nor was he prone to letting down his guard in any way to those around him. There was a good chance that Callen would be very suspicious of any claims of them being family. Callen worked fine with him, but did he even like him? Marty didn't think so.

_If we are related, Callen may just reject me completely rather than putting in the effort to get to know me…_

Marty felt despair begin to settle in on him. If all of this _was_ true, then G Callen was his only living relative.

And he didn't even know where _to begin_ to know what to do with that.

* * *

><p>It was ten minutes later when the man returned to the small, white room. The man stopped by Deeks' side. He crossed his arms and exhaled, staring at Deeks with a strange look. One filled with purpose and concern. "I see your tears are dried. Excellent."<p>

Deeks didn't answer. All he wanted was to be freed. And, to be told that this was a dream. He stared at the man.

"Have you given any further thought to my offer?" The man asked. "Since you are just about family, I feel strange protectiveness of you. I would be happy to train you, and to make you the best agent Pure has ever seen. Who knows? One day you may even be my replacement."

Marty realized that to accept the offer would be his fastest way to freedom, but was it the right way? Even with his emotions jumbled, he wasn't about to compromise the team again. He would protect them, no matter what his past said about him. Kensi, G, Sam, Hetty, Eric, and Nell, they all deserved it from him. For that matter, even the girl, Joy, deserved to be protected. And those that were damaged were the best to protect those who were not. Deeks trained his eyes on his captor's. He kept his silence.

The man seemed to become annoyed by his delay in response. "Don't you see what I'm offering you? Marty, this is your life! You are meant to be a Pure agent!"

Marty shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes glued on the man's. "Who are you to judge what my life should look like?" He asked lowly. The man seemed surprised at his response. Deeks was more than happy to elaborate; he had made his choice. "Any agency that doesn't answer to someone is messed up. Thanks for the offer, but… no thanks."

The men narrowed his eyes, a small dark look coming over his features. "Don't play games with me, Detective. Pure is not what you think it is. It would be wise for you to give it a chance before you decline my offer. I will not offer this to you again. Now, will you join us?"

Deeks gave him a crooked smile. "I don't need your offer. I was already given the offer of a lifetime from a woman half your size. So. Final answer. _No._"

Anger came over the man's face and he dropped his arms to his sides. He moved his chin as if he was trying to decide what to say. When he finally did speak, his anger had vanished and a power-sick look had taken its place. "Well, that's a shame, Marty, because you will be joining us with or without your consent."

Marty calmly stared at the man, no longer feeling the need to reply.

The man dug in his pocket and took something out of it. He held up Joy's cell phone for the blonde to see.

Deeks realized that they must have gone through all of the cameras and audio equipment he had gathered at the Garcia house. He hoped that nothing had led them back to the team.

"You know about this girl. Where is she?" The man demanded.

Preparing himself for whatever torture would come, Deeks grinned and started stonewalling.

* * *

><p>Callen felt as if he could finally breathe. The roller coaster of memories and flashbacks had finally slowed to where he could think, his mind no longer dragging him through parts of his past with no discretion. He was exhausted. The moments of fear, calm, pain, betrayal, joy, suffering, and everything else had been vivid. Very vivid. His heart was slowing down. His eyelids were heavy…<p>

Sam moved, reaching down from where he stood at his bedside, and gave his shoulder a squeeze. It was a silent reminder that the ex-SEAL still had his back. The gesture was as comforting as it had ever been.

The bigger man had verbally guided his partner through childhood horrors, teenage rebellion, work-related traumas, and everything in-between. Hetty had watched it all silently from her chair. Callen knew she was there. He was grateful that she was giving him space. Breakdowns were not something he ever admitted to having, but this? This was a very close qualifier. G knew that every time he had looked up at his partner's eyes, Sam had seen his "I can't do this" admission, coupled with the embarrassment of even feeling that way. But, Sam was Sam. He understood. He refused to leave. Sam wasn't afraid of his partner's past. And he wouldn't let anything drown Callen, especially not memories or flashbacks.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked lowly.

His voice startled G. He jerked open his eyes, surprised to find they had closed. He looked up at Sam. Sam's hand was still on his shoulder.

Sam's eyes held a quiet apology for the jolt he realized his voice had been.

Callen gave him the barest hints of a smile, letting him know he was forgiven. He was just so tired.

Sam asked him again, "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah." Callen said, voice near a whisper. He cleared his throat and shifted his body a bit on the bed, trying to find the energy he had seemingly lost. The moment he became still again, a memory surfaced strongly, making him groan as the images hijacked his eyesight for a few moments. The memories were of Joy; of the first time they both had snuck away from their lives to attempt a game of tennis. It had been a sunny day, as it normally was in Los Angeles. They had only played for about twenty minutes before they both agreed that if they got sunburns, everyone would be asking questions. Callen blinked hard as the memory faded. Remembering Joy made him recall why they were here in the first place. _Pure_. "Where's Joy?" Callen asked his partner, forcing himself to forget about the irritating memory hijackings and focus on the information he needed.

"I told you, she's safe. She is with Deeks and Kensi. Nothing to worry about." Sam reassured his partner quietly.

"They asked me about her." Callen said as a way of explanation. He took a breath and continued, "They call themselves 'Pure.' They want to know more about their agent's death just like we had thought." Callen turned his eyes to look at Hetty's.

Hetty asked carefully, "What did they do to you, Agent Callen?" She looked extremely concerned, and Callen didn't doubt that he had put her through the wringer with what he had been going through the last day.

Callen shook his head once. "Don't worry about me, Hetty." He allowed urgency to fill his eyes. "I'm fine, but they _have_ to be stopped." Callen looked back to his partner. "Get out your phone, Sam. I'll give you what I remember. We can't allow those bastards to get near Joy. They've operated under the radar long enough."

* * *

><p>It became obvious to Deeks that he was about to undergo the same hospitality that Callen had received as soon as he overheard his captors discussing how much of a special memory-erasing drug they would be giving him. Two men had brought in a table and a handful of different medical devices and items. The head guy had said something about taking his memories back ten years, which caused Deeks to want to try to get free, even though now he didn't think he could. He was trapped.<p>

Trapped, and very possibly about to lose ten years of his memories.

Whenever the bad guys began to strap monitors to him, Deeks tried to pull away and struggle against everything they did.

The head guy had chuckled, saying simply, "Really, Detective. Fighting us will get you nowhere."

"Fighting you seems like the right thing to do." Deeks told him through gritted teeth.

The head guy stopped and stared at him for a moment, obviously recalling something. A condescending smile grew on his face. "Now, _where_ have I heard that before?" He took a step towards Deeks and leaned his head down towards him. "I don't suppose you are acquainted with the man who helped the girl evade us this morning? Are you?"

Marty couldn't help the grin that came over his features, even if it wasn't backed up by actual happiness. The guy had obviously not gotten anything out of Callen earlier that morning. Well, he _certainly_ wasn't getting anything from the weakest link. "A guy helped the girl evade you? Oh, you must be so angry."

The man cocked his head and looked at Marty as if he was admiring something about him. "Not as angry as I can get, Marty. Besides, that man has no recollection of this morning, so I'd say he and I are even." The man turned to accept a large injection from a young female who entered the room. The female left. The man inspected the injection, saying with his accent surfacing slightly, "I'm never stonewalled for long." He looked back at Marty and raised an eyebrow. "You should've taken my offer the easy way. But that's what you get for being hard-headed."

Deeks tried not to cringe as the man came closer to him with the injection. The other two men in the room moved to lean heavily on him, using their body weight to hold him down even more, one of them holding down his head, to the side, with his arm. "Hey, can't we talk about this?" Marty called out, the apprehension he was feeling entering his voice.

"The time for talking is over." The man muttered. He took the injection and jabbed it into Marty's neck, causing Marty to let out a pained cry. "Now, don't be a baby. This will just help you relax while we get the real drugs going in your system."

_I'd like to pass_. Deeks thought desperately, not able to say it as the needle emptied its contents into his neck. The effect was immediate, sending a warming sensation throughout his neck, into his head and chest, and giving him the feeling of his body fading away.

The man pulled back when he was done giving Marty the injection. Similarly, the two guards stopped holding the detective down.

Deeks wanted to give them all a piece of his mind, but he found his thoughts were like butterflies, free-floating and not holding still for long. Whatever they had just given him, it was strong. He would be completely unable to fight back now. Normally, that would've been a frightening thought, but Deeks felt so nice it barely fazed him.

The man moved around the room, getting everything ready for what was next, the sounds barely registering with Deeks' floating mind.

Marty didn't know anything was happening until the man was standing over him again with what looked like an IV. The thought that he should be concerned flashed through his fuzzy mind. He tried to shake his head at the man, but even that ended up being too much for his drugged mind to do.

When everything became even hazier, Deeks realized that the new drugs were being introduced to his system. It wasn't long after that that he faded off into the darkness.

* * *

><p>"Marty?" A soft voice called. "It's me, Angel… Please, open your eyes. Let me see those baby blues..."<p>

Marty heard the soft female voice, but he couldn't quite do what she asked. The darkness was heavy, and his limbs felt nothing. He succumbed to the darkness again.

"Come on, Agent Seventeen." A male voice called. "Come on, Marty… We need you… This case won't be solved without you."

In the darkness surrounding Marty, he had a strange feeling that they were calling him. He fought to wake up this time, trying to will sensation into his entire body. He was finally able to lift up out of the black that he had been swimming in for who knew how long. As soon as he was able to feel his body, he let out a groan. Everything hurt. Bad.

"Marty?" The female voice came back. "What hurts? Talk to me." Soft hands were touching his, caressing his skin. "Please, Marty… Wake up."

The male voice returned also, asking quietly, "Can you open your eyes, son?"

Marty forced his eyes open. His head was pounding, his body ached, and he felt so nauseated that he was sure he was moments away from throwing up everything in his stomach. He let out another groan, squeezing his eyes shut again. The light in the room was low, but it still hurt his head. In fact, it made his head throb.

The soft hands rubbed his again comfortingly. The female's voice begged, "Marty, you need to try to stay awake. You've had a bad head injury. Please. We need to make sure you don't need professional help."

At the mention that he might have head injury, Marty tried to put it all together. _What happened?_ Thinking back, Marty couldn't remember what had caused him to become injured. In fact, he couldn't remember anything for a long, long, long ways back. It was all a blank. He was puzzled. He fought to try to find something in his memory that told him where he had been and what he should know about his life. He started to panic as the only information he could locate was his name and some faint memories of being in the police academy. "My head..." He managed to whisper to the individuals standing over him.

The male voice chuckled. "I know. You took a nasty bump to the head, young man. You should know better than to pick on someone twice your size."

Marty thought hard about what the man was telling him. He didn't have any recollection of that. "I don't remember…" He admitted weakly. He opened his eyes to look at the man and woman who were at his bedside. Both were looking at him, their features showing they were concerned. His head throbbed more, and his stomach lurched. He quickly rolled over onto his side, surprised to find that the young woman held the trash can right next to him. He gagged over it, his stomach trying to empty itself. Marty felt the man put his hand on his shoulder, keeping him on the bed until he was finished. Lying back down on the bed, Deeks found the man was trying to get him to drink some water out of a plastic water bottle. "No." He said weakly, not wanting to add anything to his already tumultuous stomach.

The man was persistent, lifting him up so he could take a sip, bringing to life new pains in Marty's body. Pressing the bottle to his lips the man encouraged him, "Try to drink, Marty. It'll help the nausea, I promise. That's it… Good."

As Marty took sips of the water, he saw the woman move to put the trash can down by the door before returning to his side.

The man let Marty lay back down on the bed when he was finished drinking the water. It felt very good to Marty's achy body. He was surprised to find that the water helped his stomach settle almost instantly.

Staring up at the man, Marty saw he was in his forties, with black hair and light skin. He didn't recognize the man, at all. Tracking his eyes to the woman's face, he took in her dirty blonde, shoulder-length hair and blue eyes, and felt fear overtake him as he realized he didn't recognize her either. "I… I don't know who you are." Marty said, his heart suddenly beating furiously. As the two standing above him looked at each other, Marty looked around the room. He was starting to get panicked. "I don't know where I am. How did I get here?" _What's wrong with me?_

The woman regarded him with concerned eyes. "You don't remember me? But, it's me, Angel." Angel looked at the man beside her. "Maybe he _does_ need medical help."

The man acknowledged her with a glance and looked down at Marty. "I'm sure this is just temporary... Kid, you're at our temporary base in LA. I'm Agent One. You're Agent Seventeen. Angel is Agent Eighteen. We all work for Pure, the secret undercover group, and we all have each other's backs. You are on a mission. That's where you got hurt. We pulled you out a few hours ago. Do you remember anything about it?"

Marty look down as he tried to remember what the man was talking about. Everything the man had said felt foreign. He was an agent? He knew how to shoot a gun, yes. But, an agent? And what was 'Pure'?

The man and woman traded a look. They had seen the panicked look in his eyes.

"This will compromise the mission, Agent One." Angel said. "We can't lure them to us without Marty remembering what he was doing."

Marty instantly felt guilty. He was letting these people down. His teammates? His lost memories were going to throw a wrench into something big they were doing.

Agent One exhaled. "All may not be lost. We may still be able to use him even without his memory…" Agent One gazed at Marty. "Do you think you'd be up to making one phone call? Just one? We should be able to take it from there."

Marty swallowed, not feeling completely easy with what he was about to tell them, but knowing he needed to. For the good of the team. "I can do it." He said, his voice quiet.

The older man nodded. "I'll try to walk you through what we know. Your alias had your associate listed as 'Fern' in your cell phone's address book. We need you to get her to a meeting place. Your alias will be the bait."

Marty nodded weakly, showing he understood.


	11. Captured

Chapter 11: Captured

8:28 PM

"Fern?"

_"Deeks! Where have you been?"_

"Well, ah, it's a long story..."

_"Are you okay? You sound sick."_

"…I'd be lying if I said I felt one-hundred percent."

_"Deeks, where are you?"_

"Well, that's part of the long story… Can you give me a ride?"

_"What happened to your car?" _

"It won't start… Please, Fern?"

_"Stop calling me that! Did you check everything I showed you? I bet you forgot to add water to the battery again."_

"...Maybe?"

_"Ugh. Deeks. Alright. We'll come get you. Where are you?"_

"I'm at the Garcia house."

_"Still?"_

"…Yes?"

_"You are never getting sent to find cameras ever again!"_

"Sorry?"

_"You better be. Joy and I are starving. We were waiting on you to get back before we made a run for dinner."_

"Very sorry?"

_"Good."_ There was the sound of keys jingling. _"Hey, Deeks, did LAPD ever show up at the house?"_

"…Yeah. But they're gone now."

_"Hmmph. Alright, sit tight. We're on our way."_

When the line finally went dead, Marty shakily handed the cell phone back to Agent One. The adrenalin coursing through his body had completely woken him up.

Angel moved to rub his shoulders. "You did great!" She congratulated.

Agent One looked down at him smiling. "Fine work, Marty."

The sweating blonde nodded his head. He rubbed his hands together nervously. He didn't know who that woman was, but he had managed to convince her that he needed her to come pick him up. That was what Agent One and Angel wanted. He worked to calm down. That had been more of a rush than he had been up to. It took several minutes, but he finally relaxed beneath Angel's shoulder rub.

"We can handle it from here, Marty." Agent One said, smiling kindly at him. "Why don't you rest and get your strength back? Angel and I will be back to check on you in a few hours."

Marty nodded. He still felt so tired, a nap didn't sound like a bad idea, at all. He wanted his memories back, and, if rest was the way to gain them, he was willing to do it. Not knowing what had happened recently felt the same as not having an arm or a leg. He didn't know how to balance himself. He had to trust those around him, and he didn't care for it.

Angel ruffled his hair, standing up. "We'll be back soon, okay, Marty?"

He nodded again.

Angel and Agent One left the room quietly, turning off the lights as they went.

Marty curled up on the bed he'd been sitting on, and shut his eyes. He was so frustrated with not being able to remember that he wanted to cry. Or, hit something. He wouldn't, though. He would just wait. Things usually got better when he'd wait. At least, they had when he'd been little. So, he did, listening to the quiet, until he fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Joy stopped in the doorway of the boat shed. A dark feeling passed through her. She glanced up at Kensi who was already out the door. She said to her retreating back, "I think God is saying this is a bad idea."<p>

The brunette agent stopped and turned around. She trained her mismatched eyes on Joy, looking frustrated. "Are you saying you think this is a trap?"

Joy stepped out into the fading sunlight, the sunset making the light that bathed them pinkish. "No! But something about this doesn't feel right."

"I know it doesn't feel right, Joy, but what am I supposed to do? I've already alerted Eric. He can't get a fix on Deeks' phone. Outside of calling for backup, there's not much else I can do! He's my partner, and you're my responsibility. I have to go, and you can't stay." Kensi put her hands on her hips. The teenager stayed silent, looking down at the ground, as if she was searching for something to say. Kensi sighed. "I promise I'll call for backup the moment something looks off, alright? Now, will you come?"

Joy nodded sullenly. She followed Kensi to her SUV. She didn't say another word as Kensi drove them back to her home. She prayed silently, instead. She betted that if Callen knew what they were doing, he wouldn't be happy. She wished she could call him or text him, but her phone was still up in her bedroom someplace. Did he even have his phone? As far as she knew, he was still at the hospital with Sam. She shivered. Even though she was with Kensi, she felt alone in her dread. Something bad was about to happen.

Kensi allowed Joy to be silent. Her mind was full of thoughts about how strange it was that Deeks' car had stopped working, that his phone couldn't be found on GPS, yet his car was clearly at the Garcia's. Her heart was beating faster when they were pulling onto Joy's street. She could not deny it, something felt wrong.

As Kensi drove slowly closer to where she saw Marty's car parked in front of the Garcia house, the bad feeling hit her hard. Deeks wasn't waiting with his car. There was no one in sight. Something _was_ wrong.

The agent parked a few car lengths down from her partner's car. She picked up her phone and called Eric. The teenager looked at her, puzzled. When Eric's voice answered, Kensi didn't waste any time. "Eric, something is wrong here. I need backup—"

At that moment, both the driver side and passenger side windows exploded inward, causing both females to bring their hands up to cover their faces and lean towards the middle console, broken glass landing in their laps.

Joy let out a high-pitched, fear-induced scream that made adrenaline shoot through Kensi.

Kensi was reaching for her gun and putting the SUV in gear at the same time. Before she could get her gun free, she felt a sharp sting on her upper arm. She didn't look down to see what it was, but drove forward and away as fast as she could. It was one more second and Kensi's world went black to the sound of Joy screaming again.

* * *

><p>Hetty's phone rang, pulling her away from listening to Callen and Sam discuss 'Pure,' and how they might be able to tempt the secret organization from hiding. She saw it was Eric Beale calling her. She carefully answered her phone, using delicate fingers to answer. "Yes, Mr. Beale?"<p>

"_Hetty!"_ Eric's voice was breathless, and good sign that all was not well. Hetty held her breath, listening intently. _"Kensi and Joy have been captured! And I think Deeks has been, also!"_

Hetty stood unconsciously, asking him questions before she knew it: "How, Mr. Beale? Are you certain? How long ago?" She felt Sam and Callen's eyes on her tense figure.

Eric answered her, speaking even faster, _"We're still trying to figure it out. Yes, very sure; Kensi called me as she and Joy were attacked outside of the Garcia house. Timestamp on Kensi and Joy, about two point two minutes ago, and Deeks could have been as long as three hours ago!"_

"What were they doing there, Eric?" Hetty asked, already fearing the answer. She had sent Deeks to retrieve the cameras. There was a good chance that Pure had been waiting for them to return. Her stomach tightened as she listened to her Tech Operator describe how Kensi had asked if Eric could get a lock on Deek's phone and vehicle. Then, she had called for backup, then, _nothing but screams_. The line had gone dead and Eric had been forced to burn the phone shortly after. Upon searching quickly, Eric had been able to see a black van leaving the scene. Both Kensi and Deeks' vehicles were in front of the Garcia house. Kensi's was partially-wrecked. Hetty couldn't help the deathly concern that entered her eyes.

The two Senior Agents saw. Sam came around Callen's bed to be closer to Hetty, and Callen sat up, knowing something was incredibly wrong.

Hetty gathered herself the moment Eric stopped, waiting for her wisdom. _React well._ Hetty told herself, taking a breath. "Mr. Beale, send the LAPD immediately. Get a trace on all of the phones. Track Miss Garcia's GPS. Do _not_ lose them."

At the reference to 'Miss Garcia', Agent Callen was sitting straight up, bringing his legs to the side of the bed.

Sam put a hand out to halt his movement, quickly bringing his dark eyes to stare at her, leaving his hand up to remind G to stay put.

"_Yes, Hetty."_ Eric replied solemnly on the other line.

"Agent Hanna and I will come back to Ops at once." Hetty said, knowing Eric would be comforted by her words. Callen, however, was not, his eyes gathering frustration quickly. Sam glanced at his partner and then back to Hetty, uneasy; he lowered his hand slowly.

"_Yes, Ma'am."_ Eric responded.

Hetty brought the phone down and ended the call. She took a small breath and then explained to the two men, "Kensi, Joy, and Deeks appear to have been captured—"

Callen's voice left no doubt that he wasn't happy with what she had told Eric. "Hetty—"

Hetty kept going, knowing this argument was coming, "Mr. Hanna, we need to return to Ops—"

Callen's voice raised, with a touch more anger, "Hetty—"

She trained her eyes on Callen's and finally said it, "Mr. Callen, you will be staying here."

"Like hell!" Callen retorted, blue eyes flashing. Hetty gave him a warning look. He caught it, but barely lowered his tone. "You need me on this! I helped you plan for their return! And now I remember what they look like and who's in charge! You're down two agents, you _need_ me—"

"Denied, Agent Callen. I _refuse_ to be down a third agent." Hetty took a step closer to him, showing how serious she was. "You are in _no_ state to be in a raiding party—"

"Hetty, they could be torturing that girl for information about us as we speak! Kensi! Deeks! Time is critical and you don't have time to brief another agent. We need to move _now. _Sam can be point—"

Hetty took another step forward, raising her voice a bit, "Yes, Agent Callen, he _will_ be point man, because _he _will be leading the rescue operation. _You_ have not been released by the physicians, and, by God, you will not leave this hospital a moment sooner than they deem appropriate—"

Callen shook his head, now appealing, "Hetty—"

"_NO,_ Agent Callen." The petite woman let her words fall to the ground, staring stonily at him. She hated pulling her authority on him, but she knew reckless and stubborn when she saw it, and it was fighting her. "No. And that is most definitely final."

Callen ducked his head, holding his breath to bite back the last of his arguments.

Seeing that she had finally gotten him to pause, Hetty looked at Sam, "Report to Ops, Mr. Hanna."

Sam didn't want to move, his eyes tracking from Hetty to his partner. He didn't know if he _should_ move. He knew his partner, and his partner was upset.

Callen lifted his head to look at Sam. He was seething inside, and he knew Sam could see it. He gave his bigger partner a nod, letting him know it was okay to leave him. Sam's loyalty was in his eyes when he pressed his lips together, gave G a faint nod, turned, and left the room.

Hetty waited until Sam closed the door behind him to say quietly, "I know you're worried about their safety, Mr. Callen. You know we will do everything in our power to get them back. _I_ will do everything in my power to get them back—"

Callen surprised her by interrupting her again, a dark, trapped look in his eyes, "I never intended for Joy to be captured, Hetty… Or Kensi. Or Deeks. This is _my_ fault. And _I_ should be the one to fix it. Pure outsmarted us…" His eyes begged,_ Don't make me sit this out. _"Don't do this."

Hetty sighed, a deep sadness surfacing within her. She understood what G Callen wanted. But, she refused to grant it to him. He held a special place in her heart, and sometimes he played on that, just like a crafty child. Other times, however, he was the orphan who was simply asking; needing to have his way just once, just to allow him to feel like he was in charge of something in his life. "I'm sorry, Mr. Callen. Really, I am." She came closer to him, to where she could reach out and touch him. "But you haven't been cleared by Dr. Rodgers… And he had mentioned keeping you overnight for observation… We will take care of the rescue. Sam is good at rescues. Trust him. Trust us. And you rest. And, for goodness sake, heal. You've been through enough adventure today to last a normal person a month."

Callen's fight left. He looked down.

Hetty congratulated herself at somehow finding words to break through his barriers. She didn't feel happy over it, however; it was bittersweet. She touched his shoulder lightly. "I'm going to arrange for an LAPD officer to guard you while you are here. Just in case Pure tries to be crafty again."

Callen looked up at her. He nodded quickly then looked away from her, still annoyed.

Hetty watched him for another moment, then patted his shoulder. She walked toward the door.

* * *

><p>Sam watched Hetty close the door to G's room, almost as if she felt she was ending an argument by doing so.<p>

She pursed her lips, hesitating for a moment, her hand on the door.

"This isn't a good idea, Hetty. If G decides he wants to leave this hospital bad enough, no one will be able to stop him. I'm not even sure I could, and you know I'm good at keeping up with him."

"I know, Mr. Hanna... I'm going to ask Dr. Rodgers to give Mr. Callen a sedative. There's no other way he will stay in this building. I will have Eric monitoring the hospital surveillance system, as well." At Sam's impressed look, Hetty told him, "Callen has been injured before, Mr. Hanna, and I'm a fast learner."

Sam slowly shook his head grimly, "I hope you learn faster than he does."

"Me, too." Hetty muttered shaking her head slightly. "Placing that man in containment is like trying to outsmart myself."

Sam thought for a moment as they stopped at the nurse's station. That was high praise for his Partner's skills. "I think you are giving him too much credit."

Hetty looked at him from behind her glasses. "Oh, I think not. Remember the Carter-Junction case?"

Sam thought back, then let out an amused sound as he recalled the case in which G had gotten stabbed, but managed to avoid getting checked out until he was good and ready, which happened to be after they closed the case and he was about to pass out from continuously opening the wound. Sam had been so angry he had given G a piece of his mind in seven ways. G's reply? _"Better to ask forgiveness than permission… So, ah… Sorry, Sam."_ Sam had laid into Callen again, not giving him a break until G had finally looked like he understood how badly he had concerned his partner. Sam nodded twice at Hetty. "Point taken."

"Indeed." Hetty said, before asking the nurse to summon Dr. Rodgers.

* * *

><p>Callen recognized the final look that Hetty had leveled at him.<p>

He was minutes, if not moments, away from being trapped inside her will. And, as he worked to get himself up and out of the bed he was in, he promised himself that he would apologize to her later. That is, if she would even listen to him later. What he was about to do would be grounds for losing his job. And if she didn't fire him, she would still be angry for a long time.

His head spun as he moved to put his bare feet on the cold floor. The moment he did, he winced, as pain shot through his ankle and up his leg, clearing his head. That was going to be an annoying pain, but he would just have to ignore it. Or use it. There was a good chance that it would be the only steadying point for him during flashbacks now that Sam was gone.

G took a few deep breaths, realizing that he had lucked out. Dr. Gentry had said something about giving him an IV of fluids. But none had come yet. That meant that he didn't have to worry about some machine alerting the nurse's station that he had left.

That also meant that Nurse Erika would be coming soon.

Looking to the far cabinet, where he had watched one of the doctors put his stuff in a bag and stow it away, he forced his mind to go faster, to start getting three moves ahead of everyone.

He didn't hesitate to go into "survivor" mode, where it became a deadly game of staying unnoticed and slipping into the enemy's midst and ending this before they thought possible. For now, it was time to disappear. He ticked off the list of what he needed in two seconds: coordinates from Eric for Joy's pajamas' GPS, a different set of clothes or something to cover his own, and transportation. Fast transportation.

Callen pushed off the bed, concentrating through the lightheadedness, and went to the cabinet where his clothes were. He found them and put them on in record speed, all the time reminding himself how many seconds had gone by since Hetty had walked out that door. He was at eighty-two and counting.

Once he was completely dressed, including shoes, gun, and gun holster, he was at one-hundred-and-thirty seconds. If he didn't leave now, they would notice him. Hetty still hadn't had enough time to get them to sedate him or command Eric not to speak with him.

_It's Go Time._

Picking up his chart, he painted a relaxed look on his face, one that a physician that had just returned from three rounds of golf would be wearing, opened the door silently, and left the room, going deeper into the hospital, rather than towards the emergency room exit.

* * *

><p>Eric answered the unknown number calling the secure line after he had retrieved the name the phone number was listed under and the GPS location of the call. The phone belonged to a nurse at the hospital Hetty was at, and the location was actually inside the hospital. "Hello?"<p>

"It's Callen." The man's voice said, easing Eric's concerns. The Senior Agent asked quickly, "What was that address where the girl is being held? It isn't a warehouse?"

Eric typed to bring up the address he had just given Hetty four minutes ago. This was probably a debate between partners. "Seventeen-thirteen South Catalonia Avenue. It's a small, old, garden office with a basement."

"I see." Callen sounded disappointed, like he had just lost an argument. "Old as in two exits, old?"

Eric shook his head slowly, momentarily amused over Sam and Callen's ways. "Affirmative."

"Great, Eric." Callen intoned. "Oh, and make sure and erase this call from this phone. Thanks."

The line went dead.

The computer geek shook his head and continued gathering Intel for Hetty.

* * *

><p>Joy found herself facing three mid-aged men as a young woman tied her to the metal chair she had been placed on.<p>

She was so frightened, she didn't have any tears left to cry.

She didn't think she was brave, and she didn't think she could withstand torture. _What is God thinking? _

_**Don't be afraid. I'm here. I'm not leaving you alone.**_

The voice brought comfort with it. And, with her mind clearing of the majority of fear, there was one thing on her mind: _I have to protect them—Callen, Sam, Kensi, all of them—for as long as I can._


	12. Chaos

Chapter 12: Chaos

10:05 P.M.

As night was growing deeper, the two men that waited in the forest green Mercury Marquis were beginning to get drowsy. The traffic around the hospital had slowed, and the cars had thinned in the parking lot. The night sky was black and thick. The yellow glow from the parking lights was interrupted by the rotating, bright, red and white lights on the helicopter pad on the parking lot beside the Emergency Room.

Sitting in wait in the car, the man with the British accent was constantly checking to make sure that their target had not left the hospital, the screen casting a glow on the interior of the vehicle every time he did. The other, bigger guy was constantly asking if their target had moved inside the hospital. As Pure's skilled agents, they both had been on stakeouts before, and they were good at them; but they weren't so great at the waiting part. So, when Agent One called in, they were grateful for the distraction.

"We have the girl." Agent One told them lowly over the speakerphone.

The two men looked at each other, surprised. This would change things.

The smaller guy asked, "What are your orders?"

"Return to base." Agent One said. "We will have our answers soon. And the moment we do, we're leaving LA. We've spent much too long on this operation already."

"I'll say." The bigger man commented.

Agent One ignored him. "We will keep tabs on the location of your target from here… I do so enjoy winning." Agent One didn't wait for a response, he hung up.

The two Pure operatives looked at each other with a small amount of relief.

Sinking into the passenger seat, the smaller man grinned. "Well. So much for all this waiting!"

The bigger man glanced heavenward and muttered, "All these hours, for nothing."

The little guy's British accent was strong when he joked, "Nothing new, you mean… The last 3 cups of coffee were probably the best I've ever had, from any Starbucks, anywhere."

The larger guy grunted and started the car. "Let's get back. I was ready to leave this city two months ago."

"Hah." The smaller guy latched his seatbelt as his partner drove the car away from the hospital. "You think Agent One will drug the girl for answers, or use pain?"

The bigger man shrugged, uncaring. "Pain would be faster."

"But Agent One doesn't like to use that tactic."

"He could have Agent Eighteen do it. Girls love to hurt each other."

"Ooo." The smaller man straightened in his seat. "Can we get popcorn on the way? I think this will require a snack for the audience."

The bigger man threw him a look that spoke of how unimpressed he was, before revving the engine and merging onto the highway.

* * *

><p>Hetty drove her sleek, silver Jaguar back to the old Mission-style building that served as the home for the Office of Special Projects NCIS team. She rounded the corner on the next-to-last highway-stretch before her exit. Her thoughts were muddled with several strong feelings. She was doing her best to go through them, bring them under control, and file them away for later, but she was struggling.<p>

She felt guilty over having "grounded" her star agent. Dr. Rodgers had even looked surprised at her decision to sedate Agent Callen. Callen hated being drugged almost more than anything else in the world. To handle him like this was a screaming-loud declaration that she didn't trust him. And, it was true. She didn't trust him to rest, at all. That's what Sam had been useful for over the years. G Callen hadn't come wired with an "It's okay to rest now" switch, and she had learned that fast. Sam Hanna had come pre-set with three such switches: the "For the good of myself, sleep" switch, the "For the good of the team, rest" switch, and the "I have no choice, so give in a take a nap" switch. And those switches of Sam's had made him the perfect candidate to convince his stubborn partner to heal. Hetty had never hesitated in ordering Sam to get Callen to rest. And Sam was good at it, bless his soul.

But, right now, she needed Sam. And, Callen needed to rest. At the same time.

Hetty sighed.

She would have to be sure Callen forgave her, later.

She had been through a lot with Agent Callen. Even more than he and Sam had been through together, and that was saying a lot. It wasn't her intention to make Callen feel like her power trumped his; no, he bucked under that form of authority every time. It was just… This time… She just couldn't think of another way to make him stay put short of shooting him.

Hetty exhaled, scowling at the road.

The man had absolutely no idea how to work within the boundaries that would keep him safe. The mothering part of her knew exactly where those lines were. The operational manager side of her knew, as well. For whatever reason, that type of knowledge hadn't come with Callen's packaging.

She wondered if it was because undercover work was in his blood. Or, perhaps being raised without a true home had brought him, mentally, to a place where all that mattered was the mission. It was humorous how Sam, an ex-Navy SEAL, trained to take risks unflinchingly, had more common sense when it came to personal safety than his partner did.

The image of Callen's eyes, full of pleading, passed through her memory again. Hetty frowned.

Of all the times that Callen had begged her, he had gotten the closest to getting what he wanted today. Either he was getting better at it, or she was getting too soft.

Hetty let out a small sigh.

The feeling of being outsmarted came over her again. And, with it, came the desire to cuss out the invisible group "Pure", too. Hetty held her tongue as she drove, also forcing herself not to speed.

Callen was upset, as she was, that the girl they had been using as bait had been captured. Dr. Nate Getz and she had spoken several times about how Callen seemed to _want_ to keep tabs on the teenage girl. It appeared that he was the tiniest bit protective, and, outside of the Team, Hetty hadn't seen him exercise that emotion much. Pure successfully getting their hands on Kensi and Deeks was just adding fuel to the fire.

This had become personal. Not just for Callen, but for her, as well.

Hetty was displeased with herself, once again. If one year ago she had been faster to discover who the OSP mole was and bring her to justice sooner, all this might not have occurred. Having a Pure agent in her office's midst was almost unforgiveable. True, Director Vance hadn't blamed her. But she had blamed herself. She had nearly lost Callen, and Sam. Not to mention Joy's heroics.

If the girl died this time, Hetty was sure God Himself wouldn't forgive her. And she would aid Him in not forgiving herself, either.

"Nasty business, this." Hetty uttered lowly. It was giving her a sour blend of heart burn and heart ache. She needed to end this chaos.

Just then, her phone rang, from where it rested in the car's drink holder. Hetty glanced down at it. The screen showed it was Eric.

She pushed the button on the dashboard that answered it. "Yes, Mr. Beale?"

"_Hetty, the hospital just called." _Eric hesitated, then continued a touch softer._ "They can't find Agent Callen anywhere."_

Hetty's blood turned to ice. She worked not to swerve the car. "Camera footage, Mr. Beale." She commanded, simply wanting to confirm that he _had_ left the hospital. She ground her teeth. She should've stayed until she knew he was staying put! _Oh, buggar. Mr. Callen!_

Eric's voice returned, _"Looks like he went deeper into the hospital, changed clothes, and exited through the parking garage… Is he limping?"_

"Yes, he is." Hetty confirmed quietly, a storm of frustration brewing inside her. She was angry, yes, but she was angrier at herself than at her orphan Agent. He was injured, tired, experiencing flashbacks, yet he wanted to be the one to go after Deeks, Kensi, and Joy. Sam had tried to warn her. She hadn't listened. This was her fault. Hetty forced herself to stop holding her breath and breathe normally. "Has Mr. Hanna arrived yet?"

"_Yes, Ma'am. He just arrived."_

"Don't say anything, Mr. Beale."

"_Wouldn't dream of it."_

"I'll be there momentarily."

"_Got it."_

Hetty pressed the button to hang up her end of the conversation. The chaos was now much more far-reaching than she had anticipated, and it would only get worse.

* * *

><p>Joy wanted to shake her head, but the lightheadedness was so strong she could barely breathe. Everything was beginning to be shaded with a white haze. She knew she should still be afraid, but the heaviness of the drugs was pulling her away from the fear. Now she was feeling safer. Warmer. More like everything would be okay, even if it wasn't.<p>

The man who was in charge was standing a few feet from her. His eyes were the only ones she could feel. The others in the room had faded away and no longer mattered.

She looked down at her arms that were tied to the metal chair's armrests. Where they had stuck her with the needle was now a red dot. It still stung, but it was okay.

_Okay? This isn't okay! Snap out of it! _Joy berated herself, taking a shaky breath. _I'm still in danger! These drugs may get me to tell them about G—No, Rally. Rally is all that exists. They don't have names now. I can't, l won't give them up._

_**Do you remember your poem?**_

Joy almost flinched at His voice echoing through her. She was immediately grateful that He was so near, but she was confused. She searched for what He meant.

The man nearest the door interrupted her thoughts by asking the head guy, "Did you want me to tell the jet to wait another hour, Sir?"

The head guy turned to look at him. "Don't believe we'll have our answers in time, Agent Forty-Four?"

The man frowned. "It's not that, sir, I'm just as ready as you are to leave Los Angeles. Don't want to miss our flight."

The head guy looked back at the girl tied to the metal chair before him, telling the man, his accent surfacing, "Do what you wish. This operation needs to come to an end very soon. I'm tired of looking into Agent Twenty-One's death. It's been nothing but frustrating."

The third man in the room spoke up, "She shouldn't have been so stupid as to make a deal with the drug cartel the first place."

"Oh, I agree with that." The head guy muttered. He stared at Joy, dark eyes watching her carefully. "We should have answers in minutes, gentlemen."

Joy felt herself swallow thickly. She could barely move. How could she possibly resist them?

His voice came back calmly, _**The poem. The long one you memorized while you were eight.**_

_Oh! That one!_ Joy finally remembered. _The carpenter and walrus one... By that guy who wrote the Wonderland books._

_**That's the one. **_His voice remained calm, but gained a small bit of urgency. _**Start reciting it with Me. Speak it if you must.**_

Staring up at the men in the room, Joy dizzily asked, _What are we doing?_

_**Buying time.**_

* * *

><p>Hetty walked into Ops with a dire look on her face.<p>

Sam was waiting, arms crossed, leaning back against the chest-high, back-lit table. Nell and Eric were both typing away at their computer stations.

Hetty didn't waste time. "Mr. Hanna, it appears we have a problem." She came up to him and crossed her arms.

Sam frowned and straightened. He took in the look on her face and somehow guessed this had to do with his partner. His features darkened and he lowered his arms. "What happened, Hetty?"

Eric and Nell stopped typing and inconspicuously turned their chairs to watch.

Hetty bowed her head for a moment, before raising it to say, "Agent Callen has left the hospital."

Worry and frustration filled Sam's eyes. "When? How long ago?"

The petite boss turned to look at Eric.

Eric took his cue, and answered the question. "About thirty-one minutes ago… According to camera footage from the hospital."

"Show me." Sam commanded. Turning to look at the main screen, he murmured, "I told you it was a bad idea…"

Hetty nodded once. "Yes, and I underestimated him again."

As Eric and Nell manipulated the four camera footages, Sam exhaled and crossed his arms again. The first cameras showed how Callen had played "doctor on vacation", carrying his chart, smiling broadly at passing nurses, safely getting him into the nearest locker room. He then had another change of clothes and someone's cell phone as he strode deeper into the hospital. At one point, when Callen felt he wasn't being watched, he limped for a few steps, before ducking into a medication room. Callen was out before anyone even noticed him on that hallway. Finally, the agent took the elevator to the nearest garage building, went in, and exited, "borrowing" a silver BMW Z4.

Sam was mad. G was injured, and here he was, leaving the hospital like some James Bond film. His partner didn't know his own limits, and it was beginning to look like he might be nearing them. Sam bit back the angry remarks he wanted to level at Hetty for not listening to him. They both knew what G's escape meant: Callen was going it alone.

"Mr. Hanna, how long until Mr. Callen does something similar to the Keelson case?" Hetty asked quietly.

"Less than an hour." Sam said. "Maybe a little longer than that if those flashbacks slow him down."

Hetty nodded. "And it takes us forty-five minutes to scramble an assault team. Ms. Jones? Please get our preferred team together with utmost haste."

"On it." Nell said, pulling up her handheld computer.

Hetty looked at Eric. "Has Mr. Callen attempted to contact you, Mr. Beale?"

Eric's eyes became concerned. He answered Hetty, "Yes… He asked me a few questions about where they're being held and Joy's GPS…" Eric winced slightly as he told them, "He's got the address." At Sam's sharp, disapproving look, Eric protested, "I thought he was still on the case!"

"I did, too." Nell piped up. When Hetty and Sam looked at her, she explained, "He called and asked me to send him the blueprints of the building to his email… I did."

Sam and Hetty shared a look—Sam barely breathing. His partner was doing this without him, and without backup. There was nothing scarier to the ex-Navy SEAL than that. Sam didn't have to voice his fears out-loud: Hetty's eyes held the same restrained sentiment. They were about to lose Agent G Callen.

Hetty's voice was filled with urgency as she told Sam, "Agent Hanna, get to Pure first. Mr. Callen is about to get himself killed."


	13. Pure

Chapter 13: Pure

12:51 AM

Kensi slowly came to her senses. As feeling poured into her arms and face and feet, she heard the voices of two people standing in the same room as her. Two males. She didn't stir. She didn't take an extra breath, simply keeping her breathing deep and even. She purposefully didn't give any indication that she was waking up. Her heart wanted to race, but she controlled it. She remembered what happened...

They had attacked them. She and Joy. She tried to drive away. Had she crashed? Joy had screamed.

_They drugged me…_ She thought to herself. The fact that she was waking up told her that she was coming out from under whatever they gave her. She hoped that it would be gone quickly.

They were captured. There was no doubt in Kensi's mind. All of her senses screamed it at her.

She was lying on a cold, extremely hard floor. It felt like tile beneath her.

As she breathed calmly, staying silent and keeping her eyes shut, she worked to make sense of where she might be and if she would be able to make a break for it with the two men standing guard over her.

If she was captured, so was the teen she had been protecting… And, so was Deeks.

_Not good._

Kensi allowed herself a few moments of worry for her partner. He had sounded strange on the phone, yes, but it had been within his normal antics. Now she wondered angrily if Thorn had been holding a gun to his head, forcing him to call her. He hadn't used a password indicating danger, however, which they had both agreed they would do if they were in such a situation. There was no way Marty Deeks would willingly lead her into a trap, even at the expense of his well-being, Kensi was sure.

_So why, then?_

Kensi hoped that he hadn't been hurt by Thorn. That would make getting him out of this place harder, provided he was being held here, too. She was beginning to feel guilty for not having forced Deeks to stay with her and Joy at the Boathouse. Or, insisted that they stay together. Or, called Hetty and argued that she assign someone else to get the surveillance equipment…

_Too late, Kenz. You feel guilty._

If she could get free, maybe she'd be able to do something about it. Maybe even fix her failure to protect the girl. She had a feeling that Callen wasn't going to be too impressed that she'd let the baddies get their hands on the teenager that had saved his life. Never mind that the entire crazy "lure-out, use-the-girl-as-the-bait" plan was ridiculous. Not that she would tell the Agent-in-Charge that was what she thought. She would give Callen her reasons for going back for Deeks with Joy later. Maybe he'd understand. If not, she was tough enough to accept the disapproval. She had been on the receiving end of the silent treatment from him in the past. She had lived. Right now, she needed to focus on what might be her only way to save them all: getting free.

Kensi focused on what the two voices were saying. Keeping her eyes shut, she listened to their words.

A strong, male voice was saying, "—be much longer… Agent One thinks she'll crack in an hour."

A second voice, male and raspy, replied, "He have plans for this one? Going to get her to join us, too?"

_Join them?_

Both men chuckled, which puzzled her.

"Doubtful." The first voice answered. "I think he will just want her wiped. Same with the kid."

"Pity. That Deeks guy probably could've gotten her to talk to us."

Kensi's stomach clenched at the sound of her partner's name. This wasn't helping her guilt. At least now she knew that these guys knew about him. She gritted her teeth, anger beginning to pour through her.

The first voice continued, "Yeah. I wish Agent One hadn't been in such a hurry to wipe him… Then maybe we could have figured out who has been protecting the girl all this time."

Kensi couldn't help opening her eyes in rage of whatever they had done to her partner, before controlling herself and shutting them again. She was facing a wall, so the two men hadn't seen her action. Beneath her skin, her blood began to boil. These men were speaking about all of them like nothing mattered! She had no idea what being "wiped" was about, but she damn sure wasn't going to let it happen to herself or Joy! How dare they lay a hand on her partner! They were going to pay. And pay _big_. She tested her wrists and ankles, successfully not looking as if she had moved. She was pleased to find her wrists were tied together in front of her and her ankles were free.

They had underestimated her.

"Yeah. It's a shame. At least we got a replacement for Agent Twenty-One. Too bad he'll have to be trained for a few years before he's useful."

She didn't have to listen any more. She just needed to find where Joy and her partner were, and she was busting them out. God help whoever stood in her way.

Kensi opened her eyes.

* * *

><p>G Callen paused in moving around the old warehouse that he and Sam had stocked together. He breathed hard through his nose, looking around at the amount of supplies he had amassed in a scant ten minutes.<p>

He put his hand wearily on the dusty wall next to him, staring down at the black backpack. He had two combat knives, one HK MP5 automatic and two 9mm glocks, all loaded, with extra ammunition clips for the glocks, a bulletproof vest, a cheap set of night-vision goggles, and black clothing. He also had a special set of injections he had swiped from the hospital that he would be able to use to incapacitate some of the Pure Agents close-range, as well as a few injections of B-vitamins mixed with energy boosters he could give himself. He'd given himself one at the hospital, which had helped substantially (after he had gotten over having to give himself a shot). Eventually, that injection would wear off and the weariness would come crashing down even harder than before. He would complete his mission that tired if he had to, but he preferred to give himself some type of edge.

He wasn't moving at one-hundred-percent, even with the energy shot, but that hadn't stopped him from getting to his and Sam's secondary weaponry and supplies storehouse. They had created an additional location after the Romania incident. Just in case the two of them had to leave NCIS again to take care of Hetty, since she seemed to make brash decisions every once and awhile…

_Like this?_ Callen asked himself, allowing a grim smile on his features and a break in his focus.

Hetty and Sam were probably furious at him. But, he had to do this. He had pleaded with Hetty, but there was nothing that he could've said to convince her. She hadn't realized how serious he was. He bet that at the current hour, with as much time as had passed since he'd escaped the hospital, she knew now. Sam knew, also. And Sam was probably having Eric search for him, worrying the whole time.

_Sorry, Big Guy._

Callen took a deep breath and pushed away from the wall, ignoring the constant stinging in his ankle and the other assorted aches and pains. Even if Sam remembered their backup hiding place's backup hiding place, he would still be gone before his partner could dispatch a team to pick him up.

G returned to hurrying to pack and gather what he would need for a one-man assault on an unknown organization.

A small flashback snuck through his barriers as he finished packing, taking over his vision, to the extent that he had to crouch down by the backpack.

This time it was a flashback of Alina Rostoff. As a child.

Blue eyes full of laughter. She tugged on his 14-year-old arm. She begged him to play with her. Over and over. He could hear her tiny voice pleading.

"_Igra, Bol'shoĭ Brat! Igrat'!"_

_"Sestra Alina?" He began, just like always. He paused, then yelled, "Run!"_

In the flashback, he gleefully put away the homework to play chase with the blonde girl, pretending to be a tiger, with clawed paws, coming after her. She squealed and kept just a few steps in front of him.

As he chased her in the flashback, his heart chased her ghost.

He wanted to reach out and touch her. Hug her…

Just for a moment…

To tell her thank you. Let her know how much he appreciated her desire to protect him… Tell her that his life wasn't worth her life. That she shouldn't have come after him, whether she loved him or not…

He hadn't been able to tell her, but… He loved her, too. An accepting child who had seen him as hers… He was her brother. And she was his sister.

Callen swallowed hard, willing the burning in his eyes to stop. He should've been there. He should've stopped it somehow. He should have found her first. He should've saved her.

The flashback faded. Alina as a child faded away.

He found himself looking at the floor, eyes blurry. He took a few steadying breaths.

_I couldn't save Alina._ G gritted his teeth. _But I can still save Joy._

G stood to his feet.

_This isn't over yet. _

* * *

><p>Sam hit his hand on the weapons case along the wall, listening to the reverb of the metal against the wall.<p>

He was alone in the weapon's room, so he knew there was no one to hear his frustrated action. He couldn't make things happen fast enough. He was already wearing his black combat uniform, complete with boots and bulletproof vest. All he had to do was choose his secondary weapon and he was ready.

_Really, Hanna? _He thought to himself, _Are you ready to see G shot again? _Sam ground his teeth. _If G survives this, he is going to pay for putting me through this. I don't know how, but so help me, I'll find a way that he'll never forget!_

Sam heatedly picked out his weapon and cocked it and uncocked it, released the clip, checked it, and replaced it in seconds.

Every time he had to go rescue his partner, this exact, same feeling came over him and angered him: unadulterated fear. The feeling was always there at the back of his emotions, beneath it all, even after Callen had survived being shot five times… And had escaped the ELE group in the woods… And made it through the botulinum scare…

Sam knew that one of these times he wouldn't be successful in playing the hero for his partner. One day, one of them wouldn't make it back. It was the scariest thing that the ex-Seal faced over and over again. Losing Callen.

_God, please don't let it be today…_

"You say the word," Hetty's voice made him jump, causing him to turn around to see her standing behind him with her hands clasped in front of her. "And I'll send in whatever you need, Sam," Her eyes were full of concern. "Short of an atomic bomb."

Sam frowned. "Save the atomic bomb for G. Somebody's gotta teach him a lesson about going lone wolf, and I doubt anything less will do the trick."

Hetty gave him a small, sad smile. "Agent Hanna, you are my sharpest Agent. That's why I paired you with my best Agent; because, sometimes, 'best' does not consult within for common sense. I promise you, after all this is over, we will combine our efforts to 'knock some sense' into Agent Callen."

Sam snorted. "Or rip him a new one."

Hetty shared an understanding look with him. Then she told him, "One small bit of good news. Kensi's badge was recovered still in her vehicle. There is a good chance that Pure still has no idea who they're dealing with."

"Good." Sam nodded. "That may give us an advantage."

Just then, Nell came hurrying in. Sam and Hetty turned to look at her.

"The assault team is ready." Nell told them, breathlessly. "And Eric found new movement around the office building. A few men are loading a car."

Sam set his face. He gave her a curt nod and looked at Hetty.

Hetty's eyes were hard and her voice sounded grim, "Bring them home, Agent Hanna. Do whatever is necessary."

* * *

><p>Marty awoke from a deep sleep, tense and alert. He had heard something… something that had raised the hairs on his neck and arms, even while unconscious. He held his breath and listened.<p>

_Was that a girl screaming?_

Not hearing another sound, he breathed in quietly, just in case the sound would repeat itself.

He rolled onto his back on the bed he was on. His body protested the movement. His head hurt and he still felt achy. The room's light had been left low, to his relief. He didn't think he could handle bright lights currently.

Staring lazily up at the dark ceiling, his mind searched for memories of anything recent that had happened. All he could remember was Agent One and Eighteen… Angel. He wished one of them would come back. He felt misplaced. Lost. Unable to get his bearings.

_How did I get here?_

Fear pulsed through him. He must have a bad head injury, due to how blank he felt his mind was. Maybe he _should_ be at the hospital…

Faraway, a girl screamed.

Marty sat up straight on the bed, adrenaline rushing through him. Whoever that girl was, she was hurt and scared. He had to do something!

He started breathing harder. Not knowing what was outside of his room would make investigating tricky, but he knew he had to try.

Marty stood and moved for the door.

* * *

><p>The two Pure Agents that had been watching the hospital were now helping to gather the equipment Pure had been using in the old office building.<p>

The bigger guy was in the lead, going out the door with heavy computer equipment. The smaller guy with the British accent followed behind toting a few suitcases.

"Ever feel like a pack-mule?" The smaller guy asked, British accent thicker with the late hour.

"Ever feel like a babysitter?" The bigger guy snapped. "Keep moving. We have a lot to clear and little time to get it done."

They headed to the forest green car, parked next to a black SUV, the smaller guy muttering, "You wound me deeply. This mission was enough of a failure for you to be polite to me…"

The bigger man ignored him as he put the computer equipment in the back of the car.

Putting the luggage in back of the SUV, the smaller guy continued, "I mean, it's not every year we shut down two huge operations to _backtrack_ and follow up on something so pointless."

"Watch it." The bigger man growled. "You know that Agent One thought the world of Agent Twenty-One… To him, this wasn't pointless, and he might decide to show you that with his Berretta."

The smaller man regarded his partner, putting a fist on his hip and motioning with his other hand. "I always knew that Agent One had a thing for Agent Twenty-One… Disgusting, really. He's twice her age and not really all that."

"Quit. At least you got a three-and-a-half month vacation in L.A. out of it."

"You call this a vacation?"

Just then, there was a banging noise that came from the dark back side of the building. The two men looked in that direction with a glance at each other.

The smaller man asked, "What was that?"


	14. Agony

Chapter 14: Agony

1:15 AM

Callen, dressed in black and fully armed, waited until the two Pure Agents came closer to his position in the dark shadows of the back of the office building to toss a fist-sized rock to the far side of the alleyway. The rock bounced off of the building and found something metal, making a loud sound.

The two Pure Agents, one Sam's size and one smaller, turned toward the sound, both on alert, their backs to Callen. They were beginning to go for their guns. The bigger one was closer to the alleyway and took a step in that direction, while the smaller man, unknowingly closer to Callen, stared past his partner, his hand coming to rest on his gun.

G tightened his grip on the Notricidine injection, and used his stealth abilities to come up behind the smaller guy, moving slowly and silently. His ankle protested, but he ignored it, adrenaline pumping through him.

He reached the smaller guy the same time the bigger guy took two more steps away from his partner to be sure there was no one hiding from where the noise had come from. Callen noticed with a touch of smugness; it was one of his and Sam's unspoken rules: if there's an unknown noise, move together towards it, don't split up.

It would prove to be a costly mistake for these two.

G didn't hesitate to pull the man who was about his height into a choke-hold, at the same time stabbing the needle into his neck. The man let out a yelp that caused his partner to whirl around, but G had already emptied the injection's contents into the smaller man's neck.

Callen felt the man he held go limp in two seconds, and, suddenly, he was holding up the man's full weight. He held on, and he was glad he did, because the next second, the bigger man was pointing his gun at him.

"Put him_ down!_" The bigger man ordered, sounding very protective and just as threatening.

G kept his face impossible to read, and replied, "Throw your gun away, and I will."

The bigger man thought about it for a moment, then growled, "Never."

Callen shrugged and tossed back, "Have it your way." G looked behind the bigger man and said simply, "Get him."

The bigger man took the bait and whirled around, ready to face whatever enemy was behind him.

G dropped the smaller man, and drew his glock from his side. When the bigger guy realized there was no one behind him, he turned back.

G shot him, with perfect aim, in his upper right arm.

With a grunt, the man was forced to drop his gun.

G skillfully used his left hand to retrieve another syringe of Notricidine from his back pocket. In one smooth motion, he bit the cap off and rushed the man at the same moment, focused on getting close enough to the man to use the drug on him.

The larger man realized quickly that he needed to get his attacker away from him before he had a chance to use whatever the injection held. He threw a hard left-handed punch at Callen.

G dodged the punch, and allowed the man's momentum to fully extend his left arm in front of him. G swiftly jabbed the injection into the big man's upper arm, through his cotton dress shirt, emptying it in a moment.

The man roared at Callen and roughly swung both of his massive arms at him.

Callen took a hard hit to the left side of his face, forcing him to move to the side, as the big man took a few steps back. G gathered himself as the pain blossomed around his left eye.

G held his breath and took a step back, knowing the man, being as large as Sam, would take a few more seconds to go down.

He was proven right when the man rushed him again, forcing Callen to pull up his gun ordering him to stop. He was surprised when the man managed to get inside of his gun hand and take another swing at his face with his left fist.

Callen blocked the strong punch aimed at the side of his head, but just barely. Considering how his left arm twinged, he knew he needed to do something drastic to get this man away from him until the drug kicked in. He changed tactics. He quickly pulled back his left arm and launched an open-palm attack at the guy's face. There was a satisfying give of the guy's nose beneath Callen's hand.

The bigger man staggered back. If his nose wasn't broken, it was nearly. The man brought his still functioning left hand up to his face and let loose a slurred oath.

Taking a step back, G watched the drug overcome the man's senses.

The bigger man fell to his knees and then crumpled to the ground, blood coming from his nose and upper right arm.

Callen didn't wait. Breathing hard, he holstered his glock at his right side. Time was of the essence and he had to move smart and fast. Bending down, he pulled zip-ties from his boot. He quickly bound the men at their ankles, as well as their wrists behind their backs. G wanted as many of them to remain alive as possible. He was relieved when he saw that the bigger man's arm wound wasn't bleeding as bad as it could be. Knowing that help was not far away, Callen chose to leave the man's wound alone and continue on his mission. The big guy would make it.

* * *

><p>"Hetty!" Eric exclaimed as he stared at the big screen, successfully gaining his petite boss' attention from Nell's workstation. They had been watching Sam's GPS race to where the action was.<p>

Hetty looked just in time, as Nell did, to catch sight of Callen, clothed in black, moving across the camera's downward view.

Callen looked up at the camera, showing he knew it was there and that they were watching him.

Hetty's breath caught at the look of focus on his face. It was the same look Callen wore whenever he went to save Sam. The realization struck her in the heart like a knife piercing her: he was doing this to save his family… Hetty forced herself to not look away, to be steady. She knew now, by seeing this determination in his eyes and his jaw clenched, how strongly he had felt about this entire operation. Of course, Kensi and Deeks were family, but maybe she'd been mistaken about how he'd ranked his little heroine. A lump formed in her throat that stubbornly refused to be swallowed away.

Callen was dressed in black: black bulletproof vest atop a black long-sleeved shirt, black pants, and black combat boots. He had a firearm at his side, an HK MP5 automatic strapped across his chest, it's bulky form hanging over the black backpack on his back.

He didn't limp, purposefully proving to the ones watching him that he was much stronger than they gave him credit for.

Hetty felt worry growing inside her past the levels she easily contained. _I'm sorry. _She surprised herself by thinking at the man on the screen. _I'm sorry. I can't help being protective…_

He strode toward the office's side door, pausing outside it to put on a pair of night vision goggles that he had been carrying in his left hand.

_No, Callen… Wait… Wait for Sam. _Hetty stared hard at him, willing him to stop, pause, and not go onward.

With one deft move, Callen drew his gun, slightly raised, aimed into the dark, and fired a shot.

The tiny bits of light coming from the office building suddenly went dark.

Callen opened the door and stepped in confidently.

Hetty inhaled and held her breath, watching the screen for a few more seconds, almost afraid that something on the screen would show a sign that he had just been killed. She couldn't handle this kind of stress; her heart was beating madly.

Eric reported quietly, "He shut down the power to that building… No electricity."

Nell, not sensing the turmoil that Hetty was enveloped in, commented, "Impressive that he did that with one shot." The redhead looked over at the blonde geek and asked, "Has he done this before?"

Eric widened his eyes and gave her a minute head shake, flicking his gaze toward Hetty. Nell understood that she needed to stop talking and fell silent.

Hetty forced herself to breathe again. She tore her eyes away from the screen and quietly told Eric, "Monitor everything, Mr. Beale." She took a few steps toward the center of the room, looking at the floor. After another breath, she added, "Tell Agent Hanna what we know."

"Yes, Hetty." Eric said, sending a worried look to Nell.

Hetty moved slowly, stepping towards the doors.

They slid to the side, letting the legendary Henrietta Lange leave Ops.

_Don't die on me, Mr. Callen… I couldn't bear it._

* * *

><p>Breathing hard, Marty backed up against the hallway wall. He had gotten close to the room with the girl who had screamed. At least, he thought he had. But now, his explorations were halted as all of the lights had just gone out. He couldn't see anything. There wasn't any light anywhere near him. The girl had screamed once more before falling silent. He hoped she hadn't been injured or killed, whoever she was.<p>

A few loud voices, sounding like they were below him, yelled, using no small amount of profanities. Something bad was happening down there.

A strong desire to find out what was going on filled him. What if Angel was being hurt? Or Agent One? They were the only ones who knew about him. Urgency grew within him. He had to find them.

_Get real, Marty._ His realistic thoughts surfaced, timidity suddenly heavy. _You need a weapon and a way to see before you do anything… If there's anything you can do…_

Marty looked deep into the darkness around him, fear coming over him. He felt so lost. So alone.

* * *

><p>Kensi left the room she had been a captive in, her captors now unconscious and on the floor. She had made quick work of them. The fools hadn't been paying attention.<p>

Standing outside of the door, she found herself in a long passageway, the ends of which were barely lit with far-off light. There were stairs going to a lower level at one end, the other end leading past more rooms and then branching to the left and right.

She had heard Joy scream before, but since then, there hadn't been another sound. Kensi didn't know which direction to head.

For all she knew, Deeks and Joy were in the next room. Without light, she wouldn't be able to search properly.

Joy's last solitary scream had sent adrenaline coursing through her. She was angry that these creeps were torturing the girl. She desperately hoped that she would arrive in time to keep Joy from being too badly hurt. This definitely fell within the "worst case" scenario. That meant she had to act fast.

In her momentary pause, a faint light lit the stairwell at the end of the hall, catching her attention.

Kensi started in that direction.

Suddenly, gunfire started, echoing from the stairwell. Muffled yells were joining the sounds.

Kensi hit the deck, just in case. She thought the gunfire was beneath her and closer to the stairwell, but she wasn't sure.

She hoped the sounds were from an NCIS rescue, but she hadn't heard any exclamations of "Federal Agent!"

The gunfire continued for a few more moments, and then it stopped.

All was silent.

Kensi rose to her feet and continued toward the stairwell. Getting to where she could see would be her first order of business. Second was getting a weapon.

_I have to find Deeks. Joy, I'm coming. Hang on._

* * *

><p>Deeper in the building, Callen carefully made his way through the old and rotting center garden area. His night-vision goggles were helping him get through the labyrinth of the first floor quickly. He stayed focused, keeping his back as covered as he could, stepping forward through the oddly placed concrete areas. He was moving more freely, since he had used the rest of the HK MP5 automatic's bullets on the last batch of baddies and ditched the weapon.<p>

A bullet had grazed his right arm in that fight, and now his ankle was trying to hurt worse than before, but the pain was mostly blocked by the level of adrenaline that was keeping him alive. He didn't feel anything anymore. He was completely alert.

Suddenly, an emergency light came to life, flooding the area where Callen stood. He was effectively blinded by the night-vision goggles' feedback. He quickly controlled his shock, tearing the goggles off his head. Partially blinded, he felt more than heard or saw the newest attacker. He jumped away, but it wasn't fast enough to completely miss getting sliced by the knife that had been aimed at his lower side below where the bulletproof vest ended, nor miss the hard hit to his wrist that caused him to lose his grip on the glock. It clattered on the floor. He knew he had been sliced pretty good, but only had time to focus on dodging the next knife swing.

Callen's eyes hadn't adjusted well enough to make out who was attacking him, but he guessed it was a woman, a little shorter than Kensi, with dirty blonde hair. He came to life to stop her third swing, taking her arm and bringing his boot around to trip her. He shoved her back.

She fell to the ground and was quickly getting back up.

G went for his second glock, holstered beneath the backpack on his back at his waist. He managed to pull it free at the same time she was attacking him again, slashing at him widely, from side to side.

He danced back, trying not to trip on the debris on the floor. He waited for one slash to cross her arm across her body, before switching directions, catching her arm with his left hand, and bringing the gun up to point at her chest, ordering loudly, "Stop!"

She froze, her blue eyes burning with a deep, unrestrained anger, before twisting out of the line-of-fire, using her caught arm to push his toward the ceiling.

Callen managed to hang on to her knife hand long enough to take a step to the side, trying to get his gun on her again.

She turned her back to him, went to the floor, pulling him off-balance, and sweep-kicked his outer leg.

G had gone through that exercise with Sam enough times to catch on and not fall, but he was forced to take a large step to the side. It was enough for the woman to twist out of his grasp and come back to her feet. Callen had had it. This battle would leave him with no energy to finish the job if he didn't end it.

He feigned being unable to straighten, and when the woman came at him again with the knife, Callen surprised her by catching her knife hand under his right arm, his back to her. He threw his elbow at her head and connected. He felt her pull away from him, dazed. He kept moving and knocked the back of her knife hand against his knee. The knife clattered to the ground. He turned and used her now-empty hand as leverage, bringing her to the ground.

The woman tried to get him to release her by reaching back at him with her other hand, but G stayed out of her reach and pushed her harder toward the floor, causing her enough pain to let out a gasp.

Callen knew he would be attacked again as soon as she fully regained her senses, so he dropped his gun and quickly came in behind her, releasing her arm while putting her in a chokehold.

The woman fought to get free, but to no avail.

He held on until he was certain she had lost consciousness. He held on a few extra moments to make doubly sure she was out. He laid her limp form on the floor. Getting another injection of Notricidine out, he delivered to her in her neck. He threw the empty injection to the side, breathing hard. He looked around in the dim light. He didn't see or hear anything. He needed to keep moving.

Callen staggered to his feet, pausing to get his guns. He holstered the one at his side. As he moved into a dark spot on the far side of the room, he noticed that the emergency lights were on throughout the building now. Surprise wasn't going to be completely possible now. Of course, by now, everyone in the building knew he was here.

A lightheaded feeling washed over him. G put his hand on a nearby wall to steady himself. The feeling grew, alarming him. He allowed himself to lean heavily against the wall. Things began to feel surreal. Callen breathed harder, trying to keep himself from passing out.

_Not good. _

Feeling was trying to leave him. He shook his head. Images of what could happen to Joy, Kensi, and Deeks flashed through his mind. He refused to attend three funerals that he could prevent!

_But… Can I prevent them? _

Callen looked at his gun and then into the next hallway. His vision was a little shaky at the sides. Fear crept inside his heart and held on for a moment. He needed help. And he was too far in for Sam to get to him in time.

He gritted his teeth.

_God, if You're listening, help me get to Joy and the others._ He pleaded, surprising himself. _Joy loves You, and she's in trouble, so You've got to help me make it to her and save her._

Callen pictured three funerals again: one for a teenager who loved the color pink, one with the LAPD for a detective that wasn't liked, and one held in private for an unmarried woman. Tears pushed at his eyes.

_Just… Please, help us survive... Or, if all You care about is Joy, which makes sense, let her survive. And Kensi and Deeks. I don't have to live. Okay? _

G moved his empty hand to touch his side. His hand came away bloody. He let out a shaky breath.

_If You let me survive, I promise to try talking to You again. _

Struggling, Callen pushed himself away from the wall. His balance and focus came together easier than before. He breathed in and out, wiping the blood on his hand off on his clothes. He checked the clip on his glock, then started forward again.


	15. Confronted

Chapter 15: Confronted

1:30 AM

Sam impatiently waited in the back of the black assault team SUV. They were driving as fast as they were able to at one in the morning, which was well over the speed limit, but it still wasn't fast enough. Every breath that he drew, he worried that he was breathing one more than his partner. He didn't want to face what he would find when they arrived, but he knew he had no choice. Hostage situations, he could handle. Bad guys who were angry, he could handle. His partner's life hanging in the balance, he couldn't handle… Even on the good days. And today did not count as a good day.

"How close are we?" Sam barked at the driver.

The driver glanced at the co-pilot who answered for him.

"We're only about ten minutes away, Sir."

"Make it five." Sam ordered.

"Understood, Sir." The driver called back.

Sam felt the car accelerate. He tightened his grip on the assault weapon he held in his lap.

_Hang on, G. I'm almost there._

* * *

><p>Callen froze. He held the glock two-handedly, on alert. The entire hallway had been silent, but he had heard something…<p>

A sound that had hurt to hear.

As he waited in the dark hallway, he partially wished that he wouldn't hear the sound again. Ever again.

However, if the sound was what he thought it was, he needed to hear it just one more time.

That would be enough…

A few seconds passed.

The sound came again.

Unexpectedly, Callen found himself angrier than he had been this entire operation against Pure.

The sound was one he knew from growing up in foster care.

It was the sound of a hurt girl: a girl who has cried until she has no more tears to cry being forced to do something against her will. It was an inhale of panicked air with a squelched high-pitched cry. Only a girl who believes she is fighting for her life makes that sound.

And now, Callen knew exactly where the sound had come from, and he was certain of who made it.

He narrowed his steely blue eyes, now burning with intensity, at the last door on the left side of the hallway. Joy's stifled, terrified sounds had come from there. His heart thudded in his chest. He pressed his lips together, resolute.

He moved forward, ignoring the other doors besides a quick sideways glance for each. They were closed and had no lights underneath. He suspected they were empty, but he would search them later.

G came to a halt outside of the door he knew held Joy. He stared hard at it, scanning from top to bottom, checking for any traps that he could see. He didn't doubt that the woman that had infiltrated NCIS OSP had been taught by someone who was still alive within the Pure organization. After her shenanigans with booby traps that nearly claimed his life, Callen wasn't going to underestimate these people again.

In another moment, he determined that it was clear.

The door had no lock, so he quickly opened it, scanning the room as he stepped in, ready to shoot.

There were two toppled chairs in the room, each to the side, and a waist-high table along one wall, holding several assorted things, one of which was a long, thin knife. Callen registered it all in with his preliminary glance. The only life in the partially-lit room was a man who held Joy in front of him, her arms bound behind her, by the collar of the pink pajamas she still wore. The man was the head guy, the one with the Irish accent.

Callen didn't know his name, but he saw how the man was holding a gun to Joy's head, and he aimed his glock at the man's head.

"You've got to be kidding me!" The man exclaimed, a sick laugh escaping his lips. "I already dealt with you!"

"You'll have to do more than erase my memory to stop me." G growled at him, staring death at the man.

The man didn't look intimidated. He shook his head. "Really? Do you think you are any threat to me, Green Beret, Navy Seal, or whatever you are?" He smiled widely, cockily. "We are at a stale-mate. And she's coming with me." The man pulled Joy towards himself another few inches.

Joy's teary, bloodshot eyes were wide, unfocused, staring at the floor, too frightened and gone to beg for her life or protest what was going on around her. She wasn't making a sound.

_Is she so far in shock that she isn't breathing? _

Callen took in the facts without looking away from his aiming. He knew that if he let the man leave with Joy, he would never get her back. That 'funeral for a girl who loves pink' vision would be a reality. His chest tightened.

Barely breathing, he narrowed his eyes at the man. _There is always another way. _He told himself, as he had countless times in the past. He refused to lose to this bastard. G gritted his teeth.

He knew what he had to do, deciding to go for it between beats of his heart.

Callen said evenly, "Stale-mate? I prefer _tennis_."

Joy's eyes flicked up at him, suddenly in focus, their secret password cutting through her panic as he'd desperately hoped it would.

Callen pulled the trigger, successfully putting a bullet through the man's head before he was able to pull the trigger on his hostage.

G moved forward before the man's body hit the floor, crossing the seven feet to where Joy stood. He put his arm around her and pulled her away from the body.

Limping, Joy shakily let him lead her away from where she'd stood to the other side of the room.

"Don't look at the body." He told her, quietly, breathing hard, relieved that that had gone as well as it had. He kept her back to where the fresh corpse lay, desiring to keep her from panicking over the gunshot wound and the blood.

He moved behind her and quickly untied the tight cords that held her wrists fastened together. He looked her over as he came back around her. She had a few cuts on her arms and one along her neck. None of them looked deep, and they weren't bleeding anymore. "Did they hurt you?" He asked her, breathlessly, coming to stand in front of her.

Joy nodded her head, tears suddenly in her brown eyes. "Th-they tried to scare me into t-telling them what I knew. B-but, I didn't tell them anything, Rall-y. N-nothing about you or the rest of the t-team or that h-horrible woman!" Joy dissolved into tears, looking down, embarrassed, bringing her shaking hands up to her face.

"Hey! Shh shh shh… Bagel," Callen said, leaning down to her eye-level. "You did great. You're still alive, and that's what counts."

Joy nodded, still looking down, shivers going through her. Tears were trailing down her face.

He knew they needed to get moving, but he doubted they would make it if she wasn't with him mentally and emotionally. G rested his left hand on her shoulder and gave her a one-handed shake, squeezing her firmly.

She looked up at him, face ruddy.

He lowered his voice and looked deeply into her pained brown eyes. "Joy, do you remember that time you asked me how I had you in my cell phone? Remember? You had just gotten home from the hospital. You were calling me to give me my nickname?"

Joy nodded, bringing up a feeble hand to wipe away more tears that had fallen. He had her attention.

Callen pressed his lips together, and then told her quietly, "I had you in my phone as 'Alina.' The name of my Russian little sister… The only sister I had growing up." G squinted his eyes, fighting back flashbacks that were threatening on the edge of his mind. He didn't want to go back, but he needed her to understand. He pressed on, "Alina gave her life for mine a few years back. I wasn't there to protect her… After I visited you in the hospital, I saw you as my little sister, Joy… I _see_ you as my sister, Bagel… Let me protect you and get you out of here."

Joy's eyes, hurt, confused, and tired, suddenly had a small spark of wonder in them, as if his words had touched her heart through her turmoil. She understood what he was saying. She nodded.

Callen straightened, his side protesting loudly, stinging in a new way every second. He ignored it. "There will be time to instant replay later… There always is. Right now, you have to help me find Kensi and Deeks so we can get out of here. You with me?"

The teenager nodded, again. She wiped her eyes again.

It was then that Callen realized there was small bruised spot on her arm. He gently took a hold of her arm and examined it. He looked at her and asked quietly, "Did they give you something?"

Joy nodded. "It m-made me light-headed."

G realized that they had been trying hard to get information from her. "Did it make it hard to withhold information? Are you still light-headed?"

The brown-haired girl shook her head negatively. "I-I withheld everything… Not light-headed bad. J-Just cold."

G nodded encouragingly twice. The cold could be from a number of things, but wasn't anything that couldn't be addressed as soon as they got to safety. "Good. Now, where are you hurt? Can you keep up with me?"

"I-I can ke-keep up."

Callen looked over the girl once more for areas that were bleeding. Finding none that stood out, he gave her shoulder another squeeze. He showed her the glock in his right hand. "I'm going to be shooting as we go. I need you behind me, holding onto my belt and watching my feet. When I move forward, you move forward. When I take a step back, you take a step back. It's like a game, just do whatever I do. Got it?"

Joy nodded. "Got it."


	16. Fight

Chapter 16: Fight

1:35 AM

His phone rang, waking him. He sat up in bed.

He recognized the number instantly, his breath catching for a moment. It was the number of his original handler. _Is she checking on me?_

He answered lowly, "Hetty?"

Her voice was calm and collected, but missing its usual cheekiness. "Mr. Getz. How are you?"

He half-smiled and answered easily, "Good, Hetty. It's nice to be in the U.S. again."

"Indeed. There's no place quite like it."

He dropped his smile, knowing now that something was up. Henrietta Lange's small-talk was off, both in tone and cleverness. "What is it, Hetty?" He asked softly, concern growing in his chest. If something _was_ wrong, it must be _very_ wrong for her to be calling him while he was on an op.

She hesitated only a second, then told him measuredly, "Nate, I need you to return to Los Angeles. I have already cleared this with your handler."

Nate furrowed his eyebrows, concern growing even more. Her tone held a soft undertone. That only occurred when it involved the Team. "What's happened?"

"Thorn returned."

Nate's breathing quickened. Memories returned unbidden of the nightmarish day a year ago when a Thorn assassin had attempted to kill Agent G Callen. He had spent most of that day with the teenager that had ultimately saved Callen's life, but that night had been forced to care for Callen while Sam had been at the hospital with Joy and Hetty. Callen had been drugged, injured, exhausted, and stubborn, and Nate had pulled out all stops to get the Agent in Charge to rest. The subsequent days, Nate had visited Joy and looked after her well-being until her Grandmother had arrived. Joy's family had never known what had actually happened to her. They had no idea that she had saved the life of one of the most elusive legends ever. And Joy had kept it that way, taking her Civilian Informant job seriously. The last he had heard, an attempt had been made to kidnap Joy from a mall, prompting Callen and Hetty to come up with a plan to lure the bad guys out of hiding.

_They came back._ Nate's mind raced through what that might mean. There were countless things that could've gone wrong. Countless reasons why Hetty might need him at her side. Including many he didn't care to think about.

"Nate, I've arranged a flight for you." Hetty told him quietly. "I'll e-mail you the specifics."

The Psychologist nodded, blinking to clear his thoughts. "Of course. I'll be on it."

He could almost see her smile wearily before answering, "You are as reliable as always, Mr. Getz."

"I'll be there soon, Hetty." Nate told her gently.

"Godspeed, Mr. Getz."

"Thank you. Until then."

"Until then."

Nate's phone beeped softly, showing she had hung up. He lowered the phone slowly and stared at it. He didn't want to assume the worst until it was necessary, yet his heart already hurt. He would join his old Team and do whatever he could to help.

* * *

><p>Marty moved through the hallways, the low light creating feeling of impending doom in his stomach. With each step, he had to convince himself that nothing was going to jump out of the dark and get him. The convincing wasn't that easy, since he couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there.<p>

Every single fiber of his being was screaming an alert at him that he was in danger. Marty didn't ever doubt his senses. They had kept him alive when he was younger. Even when he had been struggling with his alcoholic father, after his mother's death. Those senses were the reason he had survived... The reason he had shot his father in self-defense...

Swallowing nervously, Marty forced himself to stop thinking about the past. He needed to find Agent One or Angel or someone else who knew what was going on around here. That girl hadn't screamed again, and now the lights were all on emergency power.

_Where am I? Why does this place seem so creepy? _

Marty realized that he wasn't exactly sure where he lived or what car he drove. He wondered if Agent One or Angel would know…

He came into another wide hallway and his breath caught. Marty pulled back, his eyes fixed on two men in suits lying still and unconscious on the floor. There was a pool of blood underneath one; the blood looking black in the low light. Marty's heart beat faster. His fear of someone jumping out of the darkness to get him grew.

He looked around, taking in the vacant hallway entrance and exit. There was no one in sight. Marty looked back at the two unmoving men. He convinced himself to check to see if they were still alive.

He crept forward, staying aware of his surroundings, and bent down next to the men. He felt them both for a pulse: pressing the neck of one, and the wrist of the other. He stood quickly. There was no pulse. In fact, they were both still warm.

Marty's stomach became nauseous. Someone had murdered these two men. Possibly when the lights had gone out.

_Am I in danger, too? _

A strong desire to find Agent One and Angel pulsed through him, adding to the higher level of adrenalin that was spreading through him.

Next to one of the bodies was a six-inch knife. It didn't have any blood on its silver, smooth blade. Marty figured that it was a better weapon than just his fists. He leaned down and picked it up.

Straightening, Marty realized that he needed to figure out what was going on as soon as possible. He didn't know if the next person he'd meet would be the enemy or a friend, simply because he didn't remember any of this.

It was a nightmare he couldn't wake from.

* * *

><p>Kensi tensely stood in a section of the office building that she assumed would be where her partner or Joy was being held; she'd already searched the floor that she had been on. She stared ahead in the hallway. There was a man's body lying on the floor. She watched carefully for a few moments in the low light, trying to see if the man was still alive. There were no breathing movements at all. She glanced around, and, seeing no one nearby, approached the body. When she was next to him, she saw all the blood pooling on the ground. The man had been shot in the chest, she guessed, and had fallen face-first onto the old, dirty carpet. She cautiously checked the man's pulse. He was gone.<p>

Kensi gritted her teeth. She was a sitting duck, crouching here. She slowly stood and continued down the hallway like a cat: silent and on alert.

_Where is everyone?_ She wondered. _Maybe we aren't getting rescued… This doesn't look like an NCIS rescue... It's like Thorn is getting jumped by an assassin..._ She knew what both looked like, sadly. An NCIS rescue would look orderly and leave a clear path for backup to clean up the rear. Assassins usually worked alone and left chaos in their wake. She was leaning toward this being an assassin. As she crept along, staying vigilant, she suggested to herself, _Maybe someone is getting revenge on Thorn._

She hoped not. Joy was somewhere in this building—probably injured—and would be in even more danger than she had been in originally. Kensi mentally cursed how they had all gotten into this mess. The teenager would likely be traumatized after this. Hell, her partner might even be.

A pang of distress cut through Kensi's chest. _Deeks._ She hoped that he was okay. Whatever Thorn had done to him had caused him to lead them into a trap. She _knew_ that Deeks wouldn't knowingly do that. She knew it. _If these creeps hurt him, so help me…_ Kensi switched to Portuguese and told herself how she would chase them all out of LA with a gun and a modified blowtorch. It helped, somehow.

Coming around the corner slowly and carefully, Kensi came into a wide hallway, littered with a few more bodies. She stepped forward, listening for any suspicious sounds as she checked the doorways she passed. Most of the doors were locked. A few were unlocked, leading to small, barren rooms.

After checking the next door, which was unlocked, and the room empty, Kensi pulled out of the room to find a blonde man standing about twenty-five feet from her, near the next corner, tentatively holding a knife defensively at his side, as if unsure of everything.

Kensi's breath caught, her eyes wide.

Marty Deeks stared back at her, his blue eyes looking pained. His posture didn't look right. He was breathing strangely—in a way that wasn't correct for a detective that had just escaped capture, which was what she desperately hoped had happened.

He parted his lips and asked lowly, "Who are you?"

Kensi's blood turned to ice. _What! _She took a small step towards him, leaning forward to ask, "Deeks? What's happened to you?" When Marty's eyes showed a hint of fear, she pulled back, trying not to be threatening. "It's me." _Why aren't you recognizing me? _Her mind began racing, attempting to figure out if it was possible for Thorn to have caused him to forget her. _Is this what they meant by "wiping"?_

Deeks didn't smile. He looked confused. "I… I recognize your voice... Are you… Fern?" He asked, another small amount of fear in his eyes. His voice sounded off. It sounded like he didn't feel well.

Kensi shook her head slowly, disbelief coursing through her, her heart beating faster with worry. "Deeks... What did they do to you?"

"I don't... I don't know who you are..." he said quietly, distrust filling his eyes.

Kensi panicked internally as she watched his eyes become suspicious of her. Everything within her screamed to stop it. "It's _me_, your partner!" She pleaded, stepping towards him, putting a hand out to him.

Even though there was twenty feet between them, Marty raised the knife quickly, holding it tightly towards her in warning. "Don't… I don't know you. I don't know why you're here."

Agitation filled her. "Deeks, I'm here to save you!... We have to find Joy and get out of here. I heard her screaming."

"The screams…" He repeated thoughtfully. Then he shook his head. "I'm sorry... I _don't_... know you." He kept the knife towards her and stepped back towards the corner behind him, his eyes showing he wanted to run. To escape.

Kensi felt as if he had already stabbed her with the knife he held. She softened her voice and pleaded again, "Deeks, you _know_ me. You trust me. And I have to get you out of here." She took another few steps toward him.

He shook his head. "No. _Stay back_." Marty raised the knife. There was confusion on his face, as if he was thinking about all she'd said, yet he was determined to keep her away from him.

The worry inside Kensi grew. "Deeks... I don't want to hurt you, but we _need_ to leave this place. Their agents are all over and we've got to get out."

"Are you responsible for all of their deaths?" Deeks asked, nodding his head at the nearby bodies, his look becoming dark, as if he blamed her.

Kensi told him steadily, "No."

"I don't know if I believe you."

Something inside of Kensi snapped. "Dammit, Deeks, we don't have time for this!" She took another few steps forward, stopping only when he waved the knife at her. "We are _partners!_ Stop the disbelieving act and trust me! We _have_ to get out of here!"

Marty looked confused at her words. "'Partners'? No… You are the woman from the op I was running..."

Kensi shook her head slowly, devastated by what she was hearing, but now felt in her heart. He wouldn't trust her because he was believing a lie. _Don't… Deeks… Don't do this…_

"You're the enemy."

Tears unexpectedly pooled in her eyes. "_No! _Why aren't you remembering? You're an LAPD detective! Hetty hired you as a liaison for us: NCIS OSP! You're one of us! Dammit, remember!"

His eyes hardened, "You _are_ lying. I'm not LAPD!"

"Yes, _you are!_" She argued, trying not to be shaken by his responses, but completely shaken to the core, nonetheless.

"_Shut up!_ You ARE my enemy!" Marty's blue eyes showed he had made up his mind, as they flashed with determination.

"No, _I'm not! _I'm your friend! You've saved my life countless times! And I've saved yours!"

Deeks took a step toward her, tense with anger, "_Stop it!_ You're lying!"

An embarrassing, lone tear tracked down her face. She took another step towards him. "Deeks, please, put down the knife and _listen_ to me! It's not safe here…"

Marty narrowed his eyes at her. "If _you're_ not to blame for their deaths, then who is?"

Callen suddenly stepped out from the corner behind Deeks, shocking Kensi. He said lowly, "I am."

Marty whirled around and swung at Callen with the knife.

Callen danced back, raising his hands to show he was unarmed.

Deeks didn't stop swinging the knife at him, now thinking that he was about to be killed by the two people surrounding him.

Callen dodged another swing, and then blocked his next.

Kensi rushed Deeks to stop him, and he surprised them both by stepping back to slash at her, making her jump back.

While Marty was turned, Callen moved and put him in a bear hug from behind, pinning his arms down.

Deeks managed to elbow Callen on his wounded side, making him release him.

Callen crumpled down, looking ready to pass out, struggling to take a breath.

Kensi noticed, moving in. She tried to get the knife from Deeks, who slashed at her offensively. Telegraphing, she finally grabbed his knife hand after one of his swings.

Marty twisted to pull away, then stepped into her.

Kensi was forced to back away just enough to where he could raise a foot and kick her in the stomach.

She saw it coming and tensed, but it still knocked her a few feet back and completely to the ground.

Marty was about to move towards her, but Callen saw and moved forward on his knees to grab ahold of his clothes to distract him away from her.

Deeks turned back at him, swinging the knife directly at Callen's neck.

From his awkward off-balance position on his knees, Callen blocked with his right arm and took a slice to the outside of his right palm. When Deeks' arm had fully extended in the next nanosecond, Callen gave up his balance to fall back, and used his momentum to sweep-kick Deeks' legs.

It worked, causing Marty to fall back, away from Callen, and land heavily on his side.

Kensi was on him in the next second, grappling with him for the knife.

Deeks didn't waste any time, spurred on by extra adrenaline. He swung his legs around to kick Kensi back again.

Callen, on his knees, now with glock in hand, aimed at Marty and yelled, "Freeze!"

Deeks turned, saw the gun, and launched himself along the ground to tackle him, surprising Callen. Deeks managed to get lucky, his knee catching Callen on his wounded side again. It caused the senior agent to lose his vision, ability to breathe, and think for a few seconds.

The blonde readied to stab him, but hesitated when he realized Callen's chest was covered by a bullet-proof vest.

"Deeks!" Kensi cried, thinking he was about to stab their team leader.

She moved faster than Marty thought she could, coming at him and causing him to change directions and leave the other man.

Kensi fought hard, but couldn't bring herself to use near-lethal force on her partner, not wanting to hurt him.

Deeks pushed her back with slashes of the knife, at one point, cutting her right, lower arm. It was a few moments later when she finally found an opening in his attack and jumped at him, trying to push Deeks down and get his knife hand disarmed. She finally got partial control of his knife hand, but he was doing everything he could to buck her.

He twisted and pulled, and she held on and asserted her own force, trying to thwart him.

In panic, he became more violent, trying more extreme measures to get free from her grip.

Kensi switched tactics and pulled hard in a sideways direction as she fought at his side. The same time, he twisted towards her, hard. The result was him slicing the outside of his left arm. Bad.

Deeks inhaled in pain, pushing away from her.

Kensi heard the sound that meant her partner was hurt and, worried, she purposefully tangled her legs in his, tripping them to the ground.

Their legs a mess, he finally, successfully, pulled away from her, but, partially exhausted, simply tried to get away, attempting to get leverage so he could use the knife to get her away from him.

Kensi's hand found Callen's glock on the floor, and she picked it up by the barrel. She didn't stop to think, knowing she'd talk herself out of what she was about to do. Kensi leaned forward and pistol-whipped Deeks on the head.

Her partner went limp, instantly, falling back onto the ground, and laying still.

Kensi stared, breathing hard, at his unmoving body. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe any of it. Deeks' memory loss or his attack.

_I just pistol-whipped my partner… _

Movement caused Kensi to look up.

Callen walked over to them slowly, surveying the scene with a serious look on his face. He got down stiffly, and using a hypodermic injection he had pulled from somewhere, stabbed Deeks in the upper thigh with it, emptying its contents into the blonde's leg.

Callen didn't hesitate to toss the empty syringe to the side and move up to Deeks' left side to inspect the bleeding wound on the detective's upper arm.

Kensi looked at Deeks' unconscious body with upset brown eyes. She took the knife from her partner's limp hand. _I can't believe he just attacked us…_

Callen glanced over at her from bandaging Deeks' arm with a strip he had cut from the blonde's shirt, looking for any injuries on her. He asked, breathing hard, "Are you hurt?"

"Just a few bruises. I'm fine." Kensi said, finally tearing her eyes away from Deeks to look at Callen. "You?"

"I'm good." Callen said lowly, lying easily. His eyes narrowed at her arm.

She looked down to find she was bleeding from a long diagonal cut on her right arm, just above her wrist. It stung suddenly, now that she was looking at it. She frowned.

Callen finished checking Deeks' visually for injuries, and used his combat knife to cut another piece of fabric from the unconscious man's shirt. He looked at Kensi and commanded, "Arm." He held his non-bleeding hand out to her.

Kensi put her wrist out to him, suddenly noticing that Callen's hands both had blood on them. He kept wiping one on his black pants. She suspected he was injured a lot more than he was letting on.

He didn't hesitate to bind her wound roughly with the strip of fabric, doing a decent job in mere seconds.

"What's the plan, Callen?" She asked him as he worked.

"Stay alive." He answered, focused. "Sam should be here soon."

Kensi recognized Callen's tone and the intensity in his eyes. He was in Survival Mode. She highly respected him in that mode, so she only nodded, waiting for orders.

As he released Kensi's arm, Callen turned his head toward the passageway he'd come from. He called firmly, "Bagel."

Kensi watched as Joy came around the corner, limping, and quickly came to where they knelt next to Deeks' body. The girl was shell-shocked, Kensi could see, but she seemed to be okay.

Joy got down next to Callen without really registering that Kensi or Deeks were in front of her. Joy was shaking visibly, her eyes dazed.

Callen looked seriously at Kensi. "We need to find a safe room to hide you two in until help arrives, or I can clear the building."

"'You two'?" Kensi echoed as a question.

"You and Deeks." Callen clarified. He gestured back at Joy. "She's not leaving my side until I'm convinced it's safe."

Kensi drew back, hurt, instantly feeling more guilt than she already had, having played a part in getting them all captured.

Callen saw the look, but looked away, glancing both ways down the hallway, still staying alert for Thorn Agents. He spotted a solid door down the hall a little. He stood up, keeping his face from showing the pain that shot though his ankle and side, and moved toward it; holding his breath at first to keep his breathing from being too loud. He drew his second glock.

Joy followed him, limping, quickly taking ahold of his belt again, looking down to watch his steps in her partially-shocked state.

"Good girl." Callen murmured to her, quietly encouraging, surprising Kensi. He opened the door to the room and found it was devoid of anything except an old bed and emergency lighting. The doorknob was lockable from the inside. Callen backed up, Joy staying with him like they were playing a weird train game. He looked at Kensi with focused ice blue eyes. "Can you drag Deeks in here?" At Kensi's nod, he ordered. "Stay hidden until back-up arrives."

Kensi stood, Callen's glock in her hand, asking, "Where are you going?"

"Getting back-up. And taking out any others."

Kensi felt that Callen blamed her. That's why he was telling her to stay while he went. She didn't blame him for that, and a year ago, she would have done what he asked without protest. But she knew she needed to disagree with her Team Leader. Callen was bleeding, bruised, and in no shape to be facing more enemies. She knew that Sam would have a fit over his partner's state when he arrived. She told him lowly, "You need to stay with Deeks, Callen, and I need to be the one to get backup."

The fact that Callen paused and thought about what she was proposing proved that he was not "good" as he had stated earlier. Standing rigidly, Kensi glanced at Joy, who was standing behind Callen. She asked again, now insistent, "Let me have this shot at making up for my mistake."

Callen's eyes met hers, her words breaking through his Survival Mode. Realization came over his face and he shook his head. "This was the result of my poor planning, nothing more. My fault, not yours."

Kensi stubbornly stood her ground. "I made a poor judgment call today, and I'm asking you to let me finish this. _Alone._"

Callen tried once more to convince her, voice a touch softer, "Kensi, I—"

"Callen." Kensi shot back firmly, allowing herself to fall into _her_ version of Survival Mode. "Take care of Deeks, alright? I think they stole his memory." She allowed the anger she felt over this entire situation to burn in her eyes. _Thorn will regret coming back._

_~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA___~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA~____

Callen realized quickly that Kensi was right: she should do this. She wasn't injured as badly as he was, and she was upset over what they had done to her partner. She'd make more than a challenge for any of the remaining Pure agents. He, on the other hand, was getting more lightheaded by the minute.

Exhaling, he dug his main combat knife out one of his pockets and tossed it to her. The female agent caught it and immediately stuffed it in her jeans' back pocket. He then slowly and painfully took off the black bulletproof vest he was wearing, all with Joy's small hand still holding his belt from behind. He handed the vest to Kensi, bringing his hand back to the wound that felt like he'd just opened it again. He felt fresh blood. It hurt like crazy, but he stayed mentally on task with what was happening.

As Kensi put on the vest, he told her quietly, "The first drugs I administered will be wearing off in thirty-five minutes. We need to have back-up, or—"

"We need to cuff em. Got it." Kensi finished for him, checking the glock's ammo level. "You two get Deeks in that room and stay low. I'll be back fast."

Callen nodded, and tossed her his last clip of ammunition.

She caught it and gave him a nod. Turning, Kensi disappeared down the hallway.

Swallowing, G turned and looked at the girl holding on to him. Her eyes were wide and glassy. Joy looked up at him, waiting for him to tell her what to do. "You with me?" He asked her, carefully pulling her hand free from its hold.

Joy nodded shakily.

"Okay. Can you help me pull Deeks to that room?"

Joy looked down at the blonde's lifeless body. She nodded again.

Callen directed her to get one of Deeks' arms while he got the other. Together, they pulled him easily into the room. Callen was quick to close and lock the door. Leaving his bloody hand against the door, he took a few deep silent breaths. His injuries were protesting, and he was even more lightheaded, a sure sign that he was becoming vulnerable, fast.

_Come on, Sam. _He thought at his partner. He knew that Sam was on his way. He could almost feel the big guy's anxiety. Sam would arrive and take care of business as only an ex-Seal could. Then he would find Callen and give him a mighty piece of his mind. G half-smiled, knowing full-well that it was coming. His smile faded with a bit of relief coming over him. They would make it out of this.

Callen slowly took out his gun and released the clip, checking it. It was half-full. He still had a secondary knife and one vitamin B injection. Replacing his gun, G found the last vitamin B shot in one of his back pockets. He didn't want to take it, but if they were jumped in the next half-hour, he wouldn't be able to defend Joy or Deeks without it.

He sat down on the bed with no sheets, glancing down at Joy who watched him from the floor sitting beside Deeks. Before he could think too much about the needle or the fact that he was doing this to himself, _again_, he took the cap off and stabbed it into the outside of his thigh, through his black pants. It stung like the last one, but it hurt a lot less than his side, so he was able to ignore it.

As he was finishing the injection, Joy asked, her voice quiet, "W-what is t-that?"

"A vitamin B shot. For energy."

Joy fell silent, her teeth slightly chattering from her inner cold. Callen watched her look at Deeks' unconscious form. Deeks looked calm in his sleep. He also looked younger, like a teenager.

_Doesn't look like he's capable of fighting Kenz and I at the same time, but he sure did… _Later, he would have to tell the detective how impressed he was.

Once the injection began making its way through his system, Callen bent over, carefully—holding his breath against the pain—and took two zip ties from his left boot. He straightened, stood, and came over to Deeks, opposite of Joy. He knelt beside the blonde's unconscious body, and rolled him onto his side. Callen gently restrained him, binding him by his wrists, hoping Deeks wouldn't hurt himself on the ties.

Glancing at Joy, and seeing her large, not-understanding eyes, he told her, "He doesn't remember us. This is for our safety and for his."

Joy nodded, moving to hug herself, looking miserable from the cold.

Instead of standing, Callen moved back to lean against the bed. Once he stilled, he took a few silent breaths. It felt painfully good to sit. He ignored the pain and the way the walls moved every so often, and motioned for Joy to come over and sit beside him.

Joy did as he requested, moving as if in a trance.

Callen looked at her carefully as she settled on his left, wanting to make good use of the time they had to wait. He needed to know…

Joy was still shaking, and her eyes held a dazed fearful look within. There was a slight bruise on her cheek, and there were slices from a knife on her neck, and arms. In the low emergency light filling the room, the blood around her outer right ankle, on her pink tennis shoe and pajama pants hem, looked obsidian. None of her wounds were bleeding noticeably, but a few of the cuts would probably need stitches.

"I want the truth," he told her quietly. "And no thinking too hard about it. Did they physically hurt you?"

Joy tensed, answering Callen's question without her having to say a word.

His fury over Pure capturing and torturing her came back for a few moments before he could stifle it. The jerk that had held them both captive was dead. This moment needed his attention now and he needed to let the jerk go. His new malen'kaya sestra needed him to stay vigilant. "You don't have to tell me what they did," He began, then paused for a moment, not exactly sure _he_ was ready to hear what they did. He continued, overriding his uncertainty, "I need to know. Are you injured in some way that requires first aid fast? Or, can you wait for the paramedics?"

She shook her head quickly, not looking at him, tears coming to her eyes.

Callen told her firmly, "Verbal response, Bagel. Yes, first aid, or no first aid?"

"No." She said quietly. She met Callen's eyes then, showing resolve.

Callen almost breathed an audible sigh of relief. The fact that she was able to answer like that and hold his gaze was a good indication that she had not been harmed sexually, at all. Which had been one of his more concerning fears.

She surprised him by adding, "B-but you do." Her eyes moved to look at his shoulder.

Callen glanced down at himself. His black shirt was saturated with blood around his waist—which he hoped she still hadn't seen—and took in how his shirt was torn up on his right shoulder where the bullet had grazed him, showing bloodied skin. As he looked at the blood, a flashback started, taking over his vision. "No..." he whispered, as his sight became one of a massacre he had been sent to investigate with an elite CIA team years ago. He breathed harder, trying weakly to make it stop. He had been the youngest on the team, and had been acting like it didn't bother him as much as it had. The silently screaming, dead, bloody bodies had been in both his nightmares and his waking thoughts for months after. The fact that there had been children in the massacre hadn't helped. Callen purposefully pushed the sole of his foot, the one with the injured, throbbing ankle, against the floor twice, causing the painful wound to shoot agony through his being, bringing reality crashing through the overwhelming memory, causing it to dissolve. His heart was beating rapidly as his eyesight was returned to him.

"Y-yes." Joy said quietly, shivering. She hadn't caught what had just happened to him. "S-Sam will be upset, R-Rally…"

"He'll get over it." G grunted, fighting pain and trying hard not to slip into another flashback. She was right. He wasn't looking forward to how he would be treated by Sam. Or Hetty, if he hadn't gotten himself fired by this stunt. The only thing that made this bearable was that he had been successful, so far. Joy had been rescued. Deeks was intact, and would probably get to regain his memories in the same way he had, and would be fine after some ridiculous flashbacks. And, Kensi was mad. And alive. Callen knew that she would stay alive, too. There wasn't a Pure agent anywhere that was good enough to best her. Or, at least, that was his bet.

Beside him, Joy succumbed to another wave of chills, pulling her legs up and hugging herself hard as she shook. Her breathing was shaky, and she let a small, barely detectable whimper escape.

Callen pressed his lips together, protectiveness pushing him to place his arm around her shoulders, trying to bring her closer to him without harming his side further. "Here." He said, feeling her slight resistance.

Joy, looked up at him, realized what he wanted, and quickly turned and launched herself into his arms.

Callen's breath evaded him completely for a few seconds, leaving him not sure what had happened, his wounds complaining about the jolt from her body hitting his. Looking down, he was surprised to find that Joy was chest-to-chest with him, still sitting beside him on the left, but now turned to face the bed, her body diagonally across his, her face buried in his upper right shoulder, her left arm holding on to his right side, and her right arm squeezed between them. It was awkward, but, feeling her shiver, he guessed it was what she needed to warm up. He steadied himself and slowly moved his left arm to hold her as he extradited his glock with his right hand. He brought his weapon around to rest on his right knee, bent casually. Becoming still, he hoped that she'd warm up _and_ calm down as he held her. He could tell she needed to get out of here and to someplace she felt safe, soon. Her system wasn't handling this well.

After a few minutes, Joy's shaking died down to small tremors.

Callen noticed and stayed still; listening for any sounds beyond the room they were in.

Joy interrupted his listening by whispering against his chest, taking a breath, and whispering something else. She kept on quietly, not stopping.

Callen glanced down at her. She wasn't talking to him, he figured that out quickly, but he couldn't even make out what words she was using as she spoke. It sounded like another language. And it sounded like she was fluent in it. He wondered if he should be concerned. He didn't know she knew any languages besides English and a little Spanish.

"What are you saying?" He asked finally, keeping his voice low.

Joy paused, and said against him, "I'm praying."

"That doesn't sound like English."

"It's not." Joy mumbled. "It's my prayer language. Don't interrupt."

Callen stared down at the girl who had her face buried in his chest, suddenly grateful that they were _even_ _having_ this conversation. As she began praying again, he realized that God had kept them alive. A weird feeling came over him. Had God listened to his prayer? Or was it just coincidence?


	17. Regroup

Chapter 17: Regroup

1:42 AM

Sam could barely breathe. He directed the team of ten elite men to enter the building with as much urgency as he could. Before sending them, one after another, he reminded them, we have NCIS operatives in this building, do not shoot unless fired upon, and only then, with great certainty that it isn't one of our guys.

_Pure has the ability to erase memories. _Sam thought despairingly, thoughts about his partner filling his mind. He hoped beyond hope that his partner wasn't being tormented by the flashbacks still. He had seen how distressed the memories left G when they came. He didn't want that kind of pain to still be bothering him.

The team had all acknowledged his orders and charged in with him at the lead, their M4's held tightly, tactical beams shining into the low light.

The entire maneuver felt wrong from the beginning. Sam was able to put aside how he desired to have his partner next to him, watching his back, but he wasn't able to shake the feeling that he was superior to each member of this team, and wished that he had someone he trusted with his life—even Deeks would have sufficed—going in beside him.

As they moved in, Sam focused on how he needed to find his partner fast, who was injured and not at his sharpest or healthiest. He needed to get to Kensi, Joy, and Deeks, just as quickly. Pure might have already decided to kill any of them that they had in custody.

He was surprised very quickly. There were so many bodies.

_Damn._ The thought snuck through Sam's focus. _My partner is good._

Callen's ability to hold his own in a fight had never surprised Sam. His partner was a legend. The only problem was the fact that sometimes the younger man forgot his own weaknesses, forgot that he was breakable, easily wounded… Sam ground his teeth, anger springing up inside his chest. His partner was going to get an earful about going solo. And, most likely a lengthier earful about going solo _while wounded_.

The team came to some stairs, and Sam motioned for half to take the stairs, and the rest to follow him forward on the ground floors. The separation was flawless. The team with Sam continued onward, scouring the place for anything living as fast as possible.

Sudden gunshots sounded up ahead.

They paused at a group, waiting for Sam's signal. He gave it to them in hand signals. _Two watch our back, two on my left, two on my right. Now._

Sam charged forward, the five men followed him, each obeying his commands to the letter, their assault weapons aimed, and ready to deal with whatever lay beyond the next turn, gun lights shining into the dim emergency lighting.

Swinging around the next corner, Sam found a person bent over on the far side of the room.

"Federal Agent!" Sam bellowed, causing the person to straighten.

It was a female who lifted her hands in surrender, a gun being held in a non-threatening way in her right hand.

Relief washed over Sam as he looked at her, lowering his weapon slightly.

_Kensi._

"Sam!" Kensi called, her voice full gratitude, squinting her eyes at all the weapon lights aimed at her.

"Kensi!" Sam called back. He lowered his weapon and made a hand motion that caused the rest of the men to stand down. Kensi lowered her arms. He spoke into his earwig for the benefit of Hetty, Eric, and Nell: "I've got eyes on Kensi." He came toward her, searching her for injuries, the other men watching for more enemies. "You good?"

Kensi had a bloody lip, and a bloody bandage wrapped around her left forearm, but she nodded her head, "I'm fine. But the others need help." A hint of hurt entered her eyes. "Thorn took Deeks' memories."

Sam frowned. Kensi still didn't know what all had gone on with Callen. He didn't want to be the one to fill her in, or even be around when she'd find out what her partner would go through in getting his memories back. "Where is he?"

"He's with Callen and Joy." Kensi explained, not catching the relief in Sam's eyes at hearing his partner's name. "He's unconscious." Kensi turned and pointed behind her and into the closest hallway. "That way. I'll take you. I think it's clear."

Sam nodded curtly. "Together, Kenz." At her nod, agreeing to them staying side by side, he turned back to the SWAT members behind him. He motioned for two to drop back from the front, leaving one SWAT, Kensi, and he at the forefront. He paused to tell Eric, "We're going to need an ambulance."

Eric's voice replied in his ear, "Already done, Sam!"

The group then began to head to where Kensi indicated. Sam moved them along as fast as he dared to, not putting their safety in jeopardy, but hurrying them toward his partner and the others as quickly as he could.

Hallway after hallway, there were no more living people. Just bodies.

Sam was beginning to lose his patience over not getting to his partner, about the time that Kensi pointed to a doorway.

"That one." She said, keeping her gun ready.

Sam nodded, and motioned for the SWAT team to take the sides of the hallway and guard them. He motioned to Kensi to go in at his side.

The bulky agent placed his hand on the doorknob and yelled out, "G? I'm coming in!"

Turning the doorknob, Sam slowly and cautiously pushed the door open, Kensi on his right, both slightly ducked. Sam shined his gun's light on the body on the floor—an unconscious Deeks, finger off of the weapon's trigger, and then onto an exhausted, alert Callen leaned up against the bed in the room, his right hand holding a gun pointed downward, his other hand protectively around Joy, who was curled around the agent, her face buried in his black shirt.

Callen blinked owlishly in the bright light, a small relieved look in his eyes.

Sam moved in with Kensi, quickly verifying that the small room was clear. He swung his weapon behind him, coming around Kensi, who was kneeling next to a restrained Deeks while tucking the glock in the back of her pants, to G's side, searching Callen and Joy visually for damage. There was blood everywhere, especially on Joy's pajamas and Deeks' clothing, but Sam couldn't tell if there was anything that needed to be addressed quickly. Finally, he knelt down, met eyes with G and sternly asked, "You good?"

"Now that you're here?" G began, he glanced down at the girl who hadn't moved and then his eyes tracked to Deeks and Kensi before meeting his partner's dark gaze. "I could pass for good." Callen gave Sam an exhausted, yet cheeky grin.

Sam shook his head very slowly once side-to-side. "G." He said, his disappointment filling his voice.

G exhaled and gave him a nod, looking down, all cheekiness gone in an instant. His motions speaking volumes to Sam; there was understanding that what he'd just done was too dangerous.

Kensi's voice broke in, "We need to get Deeks to an ambulance."

"Hetty has one on the way." Sam told her, glancing back at Deeks. Sam looked back, eyes flicking to the motionless brunette that Callen held. "Joy okay?"

Callen nodded, carefully placing his weapon on the floor. Bringing his hand to her upper shoulder, he squinted at Sam, a strange look on his face. "She passed out about four minutes ago… They interrogated her."

Sam couldn't help the rage that grew inside him. He pressed his lips together, restrained the anger, and spoke when he was focused again, the whole process taking only five seconds. He asked simply, "She injured?"

"Yeah. Get her to an ambulance, too." Callen said, pulling the girl away from him slightly.

The teenage girl jumped and woke quickly, panic in her eyes. She inhaled, frightened, and couldn't seem to figure out what was going on.

Sam moved to pull the girl off of G, but Callen surprised him by pulling her back to him, saying lowly, "Bagel…"

Joy's breathing calmed as soon as she realized that Callen was right there, holding her.

Sam could see that the girl was out-of-it. Pure had interrogated her, yeah right: she was completely panicked. Callen knew it, too, because he was staring straight ahead, giving her time to adjust.

Just then, Sam's earwig came to life with members of the assault team in his ear.

"_Team, we have explosives on the second floor… We think the frame of this building may be set to blow…"_

"_Team Leader, we have eyes on explosives on the ground floor. Please advise."_

"_This is OSP Headquarters," _Eric's voice joined the others. _"Please describe the device. Do you see anything that would suggest the explosives are counting down?"_

Sam stood to his feet, knowing his eyes were betraying how bad what he was hearing was. He needed to get them all out of here, fast. He glanced around to take inventory once more: Deeks was unconscious, Kensi was mobile, Callen seemed fine, and Joy was injured.

His earwig was filled with one of the team's voices describing the explosives to Eric, and Eric asking more questions. He half-listened, focusing on what was most important to him at this moment: getting them all out alive.

He called into the hallway, "Jenkins! Holloway!"

The two assault team members came in quickly.

"Sir!"

He pointed to Deeks and Kensi. "Get them out of this building. NOW."

"Yessir!"

The two men moved to get Deeks hoisted over Holloway's shoulder.

Kensi stood, protesting, "Sam!"

"Kenz, go!" Sam told her, squeezing her arm, then letting go. "We're right behind you. Stay with Deeks!"

Jenkins didn't hesitate to move beside her and let out an urgent, "Ma'am?"

Kensi shot him a glare, but began moving, telling the two, "Be careful!"

Sam nodded. He stared until Kensi was out the door. Then he knelt next to G and the now-shaking teen who was breathing hard. "We gotta move, G." He told him simply.

Callen had heard the tone in Sam's voice already and knew that something bad was going on. He nodded, looking down at Joy. He glanced at Sam and told him, "Take her. She needs to be carried. Foot is sliced."

Sam nodded and moved to take the girl.

She wouldn't let go of G for a moment, but then Callen told her firmly, "Go with Sam."

Joy seemed to gain some of her ability to reason, because she turned and put her arms around Sam, allowing him to pick her up like a small child.

Eric's voice came over the earwig, catching Sam's attention as he stood with the girl, _"Retreat! Repeat, Team, you need to get out of there!"_

Sam looked down at Callen, surprised that he hadn't gotten up yet. "G, come on! Hetty's ordered a retreat." It was at that point, Sam saw the blood. His heart just about stopped. "Are you shot?" He demanded, almost forgetting he was holding the teenager, wanting to kneel back down and examine G's wound.

Callen ignored him and began struggling to his feet.

Sam could tell that this wasn't going to end well. Callen was moving slow enough for him to get the extent of what Callen was hiding: he was injured pretty bad. He was holding his breath, trying not to make a sound as he attempted to get up. Sam wanted to tell Callen to stay still, that he would bring the EMTs to him, but Hetty had just ordered the building cleared. The bigger agent needed to think of a quick way to get G and Joy out of this place fast.

"Sir?" A voice came from the doorway. It was Vargas. The third-highest ranking officer on the assault team. "E-vac has been ordered."

"Vargas!" Sam barked, turning toward the man who was the same size as he was. "Take her!" He ordered, giving the man only a moment to stow his gun before passing Joy off to him, placing her roughly in his arms.

"Yes, sir." Vargas answered, surprised, but ready to do whatever needed to be done to get them out of the building.

Sam bent down to help G up. G seemed to lose his breath and his balance as Sam hoisted him up, putting G's right arm around his bulky neck. He didn't miss that Callen's left arm went protectively to his side, even in his dazed thinking. The older man wanted to scold his partner over the wounds, but he decided it was more prudent to stall the reaming until they were out of danger.

"Eric!" Sam yelled into his earwig as he and Vargas took Callen and Joy out into the hallway. "We need a closer exit, STAT!"

Eric didn't even hesitate. _"Down that hallway, away from the front door. Take the next left. Then the following right." _

Sam allowed Vargas to get in front of him, as he brought up the rear with Callen who was putting all of his concentration on keeping in step with his bigger partner. Sam wasn't sure if Callen was breathing or not—he couldn't hear him.

The group hurried as fast as they could, taking the last turn, to Eric's triumphant exclamation: _"Back door dead ahead!"_

It was obvious that the door had a massive lock on it, one that Sam wouldn't be able to over-ride without a truck to drive through the sturdy metal door. He maneuvered Callen and himself in front of Vargas and Joy.

Sam didn't hesitate to draw his firearm, holding G up with his other arm. He aimed at the lock and began shooting, working to get the lock disabled and not fused together. He didn't want to trap them.

Behind him, Joy let out a frightened cry, which did not surprise him as he kept firing. What did surprise him was that Callen did his best to look back at her; nearly prying free of his partner's grasp in the process. Sam held on tighter, hoping now that he wasn't bruising his partner, but thinking subconsciously that Callen deserved it.

Sam heard the low "clunk" from the door that he'd been waiting for. He stopped firing, stepped closer to the door, and kicked at it. It came open.

About the time they were exiting, it started.

Low rumbles came from the three-story building in alternating waves. Then came the sounds of explosions, including breaking glass and smashing rocks.

Sam and Vargas knew they were still too close to the building, so they ducked their heads and hurried faster, straight away from the building. The rumble that followed them sounded big and dangerous, so they didn't stop until they were up next to the office building across the stone alleyway.

Sam, breathing hard, registered that Vargas and Joy were right beside him as he glanced across to the building that was crumbling slowly, seeming to fold in from the outside. It was amazing to watch: a three-story, red-brick building falling apart in the middle of a quiet Los Angeles night. He didn't keep watching however, his concern returning to his partner, who was barely keeping his grip on Sam.

G was breathing hard, gasping really, and trembling now. His exhausted eyes were looking at the building that was going up in flames.

Eric's voice came alive in Sam's ear. _"Sam!? Are you alright?"_

Sam put his hand to his earwig, "We made it out, Eric. And we have Joy and Callen. We're good. Thanks for that quick exit." Taking a short breath, he asked, "Deeks and Kensi make it out?"

"_Affirmative. They are already with the Medics."_

Sam glanced at his partner, and then over to Joy, who was starting to panic again in Vargas' arms. "We need those, too, Eric. Do we need to move, or can they find us?"

"_I will get them to you, Sam. We have no shortage of help… Hetty got us three ambulances."_

Sam scowled. "Did we need three?"

Hetty's voice came over the earwig suddenly, _"Better safe than dead, I always say, Mr. Hanna. How's Mr. Callen?"_

The bigger man tried to gage how he should break it to Hetty that Callen seemed as banged up as the Keelson case, and then some. Finally, he took in G's ragged breathing and told her, "Alive."

Callen seemed to realize that he was being discussed. He looked at his partner as well as he could partially-dangling in Sam's grip.

Sam couldn't help the upset look that became fire behind his eyes. "Yes, _you_. And you're in it deep, so I'd keep that "I'm fine" crap to yourself, if I were you. EMTs are on the way."

G winced, saying, "I deserve that."

Sam was about to add a lot of reasons as to why Callen deserved a lot more, when another cry sounded from Joy. Both agents turned to look.

Vargas was struggling to keep a hold of the teenager, sinking to the ground, in case she got free of his grasp and should fall. "She's trying to get away from me, Sir!" Vargas managed to call while he wrestled with the brunette.

Joy was making frightened sounds, pushing away from Vargas and trying to twist away. The man as large as Sam was hanging onto her as well as he could.

"Bagel!" Callen said loudly, trying to get away from Sam to go closer.

Sam held on and barked harshly, "G, sit! I'll get her."

Callen shot Sam a glance that wasn't one that he'd given Sam before, but he did what Sam said, allowing Sam to lower him to the ground. Sam didn't miss the catches in Callen's breathing as he became settled on the pavement, or the way his left hand stayed near his side.

Sam let go of his partner and stepped over to Vargas and the struggling Joy and knelt next to them. He allowed his kid-friendly side to come to the surface as he reached out to take hold of Joy's upper arm. "Shh, shh, shh, kiddo, calm down… Quit scaring Vargas. He doesn't know what to do. Look at his face. You've got him worried."

The girl was barely breathing, taking quick puffs of air, her eyes unfocused, staring into the smoky night. She calmed a small bit, leaving her arms pushing against Vargas, but ceasing her twisting.

Sam knew she was near—if not completely in—shock. He put his other hand on the top of her head, gently trying to gain more of her attention. "You're okay, Joy. You're alright… No one's going to hurt you… Not Vargas, not me." He was pleased when she stilled further, her only movement now was her gulping in air. "Do you remember me, Joy?" Sam asked quietly.

Joy didn't even look at him. She continued staring into space. She nodded, though, parting her lips, she murmured, "Sam."

Sam nodded. "Good. Now, do me a favor, and quit pushing on Vargas. He can't breathe."

Vargas shot Sam a glance with a raised eyebrow, obviously breathing just fine against the teenager's small hands.

Sam's request was heeded as Joy retracted her arms and sank into Vargas' hold, which the big man loosened.

"Good." Sam rubbed her head a little, bringing his hand to rest on the back of her head. "Now, we're going to breathe together, okay? You need more air, so we need to slow down how fast you're breathing. Focus on my voice… Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in… Breathe out…" Sam was relieved that the girl listened to his commands and began to do what he wanted. She was still staring at nothing, but now she wasn't flailing about like a little monkey.

Sam continued to quietly coach Joy on breathing while he looked over his shoulder at G. His partner was watching everything intently. The strange look was in his eyes again. This time, however, Sam wondered if it was protectiveness. He promised himself to figure out what was going on with Callen, and how it was linked with this girl.

About the time that Sam had Joy calm in Vargas' arms; the EMTs were pulling an ambulance up to them.

Sam tried to stay out of the way for the flurry of activity that Ambulance Personnel always became upon reaching people who are injured. He stepped back with Vargas as the team of five got Joy and Callen onto gurneys. Sam's heart thudded and his blood went cold has he caught view of the nasty wound on G's side. It was bloody and deep enough for Sam to see into Callen's side. The medics were quickly covering the wound with sterile gauze and one held it there as they finished strapping Callen down. They moved him to the ambulance and got him loaded first. It was only then that Sam checked on Joy. He wasn't surprised that the girl was agitated again, her face wet with tears. They had her strapped down and covered. One of the female EMTs was consoling her verbally, but it wasn't doing much.

Above the din, somehow, Sam heard G calling his name. Sam moved closer to the ambulance looking in at the male and female medics who were hovering over his partner, trying to check him over and get him prepared for the trip to the hospital. Sam was about to climb into the ambulance to see what his partner wanted, when the blonde, female EMT suddenly swatted at G's hand. Hard. The resounding _SMACK! _stopped Sam to take in what was going on. He saw that the woman had had enough of Callen taking the oxygen off of his face. Sam wasn't sure, but he was certain that the woman was glaring a dare at his partner to attempt to pull the mask off again. G was looking at the woman with furrowed eyebrows. Sam decided to see what was up and climbed into the ambulance at the same time the woman continued her work.

Sam leaned over her, to where his partner could look up at him. "What, G?"

Callen halted his hand from trying again to take off the oxygen mask with a look at the EMT; the look was almost that of a person afraid to provoke a wasp's nest.

She paused and narrowed her eyes at him, warning, "It _stays_. Talk with it on." She went back to checking him.

The other medic, a male, was focusing on keeping pressure on Callen's side. Sam guessed he was used to the female's antics with patients, as he hadn't looked up.

Callen took a breath and looked up at him and asked, voice muffled from the oxygen mask, "Did you get the two prisoners I left at the rear of the building?"

Sam felt his eyes narrow. As they had gone through the building, they hadn't seen anyone alive. Only the ones they had rescued. "How many were alive, G?"

Callen furrowed his brow and answered after a few long seconds- a true telling of how tired he was. "Five. Two outside the building, one in the entry, one in garden area, and Deeks."

Sam frowned. "Deeks?"

"He attacked me."

"Hetty will be glad you let him live."

"Figured." Callen grimaced in pain and tried to look down at what the male medic was doing to his side.

The female medic immediately pushed him down, roughly using her hand on his lower neck. "I swear, boy, if you don't stay still..." She leaned closer to his face and said menacingly, "_Stay. Still!_"

Sam let a momentary smile slip. G had dealt with hundreds of EMTs in his lifetime, but this woman was a new breed. His smaller partner seemed genuinely afraid of this woman. Almost in the same way Callen was afraid of his boss.

Sam brought his partner's attention back, asking, "The prisoners?"

G's eyes looked up at him and said, "Drugged with Notricidine and zip-tied."

Sam nodded. "Let me do some checking. I'll be right outside."

Sam turned and stepped out of the ambulance, taking in the full scope of the devastation that Pure had left in their wake. The building where they had headquartered their operations was rubble and flames. It looked like the worst type of tragedy had occurred here. Sam blinked against a small bit of smoke that drifted toward him.

A small cry came from the direction of where the paramedics were working with Joy. Sam wanted to check on the small teen, but he knew that he'd only be in the way. They would be loading her into the ambulance as soon as they had Callen stable and ready for transit. It would only take a few more minutes. Just enough time for him to hand over operations to the head assault team member. And to check on what Callen had mentioned. Of course his partner had left prisoners.

Sam activated his earwig. "Team, did we capture any enemy? Specifically at the rear of the building?"

The answers came back one after the other.

"_Negative, Team Leader."_

"_No, Sir."_

"_There was no one in the rear of the building upon retreat, Team Leader."_

"_Agent Hanna, we didn't find any of the enemy alive."_

"_Sir, do we need a sweep of the premises?" _

Sam frowned. G was certain he had left some drugged and tied up. This wasn't good. "Stand by." Sam ordered. "Eric. Do we have eyes at the rear of the building?"

Eric's voice responded easily, _"All I have is a view of the area around the back door."_

Sam looked up and down the alley, trying to see anything out-of-place in the bouncing red and white lights of the ambulance. "Go back and check any view we got, from the time Callen arrived until now." He told him. "We're looking for two Pure agents that might've escaped."

"_On it." _Eric answered.

There was movement beside him. Sam turned to find Vargas standing a few steps away, serious look on his face, hearing everything Sam was saying. The other man was standing ready for orders.

Sam shook his head. Showing he had no directives yet.

A male EMT came up to Sam and Vargas. "We're ready to move."

"I'm coming with you." Sam told him. He looked at Vargas, who gave him a nod of understanding. The Medic returned to the ambulance where they were finishing locking Joy's gurney down. Sam followed him, saying through the earwig, "I'm leaving the scene. Thomas, your show."

"_Acknowledged, Team Leader."_

"_Sam," _Eric's voice followed the others. _"I've got a man, about six-foot-two, carrying another over his shoulder headed east. Stays to the shadows. Avoids cameras."_

Sam froze outside of the ambulance. "Time?"

Nell's voice came back,_ "It was about fifteen minutes ago. We're trying to get another visual…"_

Sam exhaled, frustrated. "Thomas, see if you can track."

"_On it, Team Leader. Vargas, Williams, on me."_

As the two men told Thomas over the communication link that they were on the move, Sam climbed into the ambulance and sat on the small bench, crammed in near G's feet. The male EMT closed the back doors to the ambulance after him.

Sam couldn't help the foreboding that was building in his stomach. Two of the Pure operatives were getting away. That couldn't be good. And, somehow, he was certain that G wasn't going to take the news well.


	18. Troubled

Chapter 18: Troubled

2:35 AM

Eric Beale typed madly, while monitoring three screens. His search through the video footage was not going well. At least, not providing the facts that he wanted them to. They were only producing troubling results. He caught one more shadow in the background of an ATM camera and let out a loud, "Crap." He flung the cutouts onto the big screen that Nell was working on.

"Bad?" Nell asked from where she stood, in front of the big screen, dissecting the video he kept feeding her. She was too engrossed in what she was doing to look at him, her stylus dancing over her handheld computer.

"Four." Eric answered, still typing madly, but now searching through the cameras further out. He pressed his lips together. There was still chatter going on in the background from on-site, where Pure's building had exploded. The assault team was cleaning things up while Sam was getting Callen, Kensi, Deeks, and that girl, Joy, to the hospital. Now that LAPD and LAFD were on the scene, the assault team was answering questions, as well as asking them. Eric simply ignored most of it. He only listened for the words "OSP Headquarters" or "Eric." They would let him know if they needed him.

"'Four'?" Nell repeated. She thought she knew what he was talking about, but she wanted to be sure.

Eric said, frustrated, "Yeah. How many escaped. And I'm losing them!" Eric gritted his teeth as he realized that he had just lost the trail of the third. He only had one more shadow to attempt to track, and then he wouldn't have any clue on how to track the Pure operatives that got away. He started the fourth search, trying hard to follow the shadow through businesses' cameras, ATM cameras, and any other camera in the direction he thought the person was travelling.

"You want me to tell Sam?" Nell offered, understanding his irritation.

"I've got it." Eric grunted. He glared at the screens. All he found was a bare outline of the person fleeing into a bright on-coming headlight. He exhaled loudly, cutting out the footage and sending it to Nell. "That's all we've got." He muttered angrily to her, reaching over to dial Sam's cell phone. As it rang, Eric realized that Sam was the only Agent with a cell phone. Kensi and Deeks' phones had been confiscated by Pure, and Callen's had been, well, never returned. He made the mental note to himself; all calls would have to go to Sam. _T-riffic._ Eric thought to himself, his mental voice sounding harsh and frustrated. He was not happy at hitting dead-ends when it mattered like this.

"_Yeah."_ Sam's voice answered.

"Sam, I think there were more that got away than we originally thought."

"_Talk to me, Eric."_ Sam urged.

"There were two additional shadows that left the area after Callen went in and before you arrived… One even tried to get a vehicle to work before fleeing the scene on foot."

"_Are you telling me four of them got away? What about the nearby cameras?" _

Eric shrugged, upset and seething. "Never get a clear view of any of them. I lose them in residential areas to the north and in camera-void areas to the west."

Eric heard Sam exhale in a manner that expressed his disgust. He'd heard the sound before. He still wished that he wasn't the one who'd caused it. An upset Sam was a dangerous thing.

"_Thanks, Eric." _Sam said, finally. _"Contact me if you get anything else."_

The line clicked softly in Eric's ear, followed closely by a small beep from his earpiece acknowledging the end of the call.

Eric brought up a hand to rub his fingers against his forehead. His head was beginning to hurt. It was probably his frustrations. The screens and lighting in Ops usually didn't bother him. The entire day had pushed him through a broad spectrum of emotions as he had worked through surprise attacks, kidnappings, data searches, hospital escapes, monitoring lone-wolf rescues, and buildings exploding. _Snap out of it, Beale! _He scolded himself. _You're being way too dramatic._ But being dramatic was what he wanted to be—this entire day had been crazy since four-fifty a.m.! He was running out of steam, _and_ patience, with no end in sight. Most likely, he wouldn't be released until clean-up had been handed over to the LAPD on Pure's base. He sighed and dropped his hands to land on his keyboard. _We survived Pure last year. This year will be no different if I have anything to say about it._

The blonde pulled up the current feed for the building that had been imploded and was being doused by the LAFD. Eric pulled back from his screen, glaring at it, puzzled in his tired state. "Who plants explosives on their own building?" He wondered out-loud. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard of.

Nell, casually walking past toward the back wall terminal, leaned in his direction and told him under her breath, "We do."

Eric turned to look at her with shock. "We do?!" The thought of their Spanish-style mission going up in explosive flames was appalling.

Nell pointed at him, gave him a small smile, and said simply, "Psyche."

She had already looked down to her handheld computer, amusement in her eyes, when Eric grasped that she was messing with him.

"Not funny." He told her, seriously. He was grateful that her sense of humor was still working, but he didn't feel like being tricked at this hour.

She didn't look up. "What's wrong, Eric? Getting sleepy? What happened to the Professional Black Jack Player who was banned from Vegas?"

Eric pursed his lips as he caught her challenge. "Sleepy? What? Some of us regularly challenge hordes of Zoreks at this hour." He told her, referring to his late-night online gaming skills. He turned defiantly back to his screen. He knew that Nell was smirking from behind him.

Just then, the doors opened. Hetty strode in. Eric knew that Nell wasn't stopping for their petite boss, so neither did he.

Her footsteps paused, probably taking it all in, then she was behind him. "Mr. Beale? Our assault team has managed to recover a few items that will require your expertise on-site."

Eric whirled around to look at Hetty, eyebrows raised.

Hetty gave him a small nod, explaining. "There were two computers recovered: one, a desktop, and one, a laptop. Two cell phones were also recovered."

Eric blinked. He hoped it wasn't his tiredness that was causing him to not understand what she was asking of him. At the risk of looking dumb, he echoed, "'On-site'?"

"Yes." A flicker of sadness entered her eyes, causing Eric to pay closer attention when she said, "When a foe sets bombs to demolish their own building, one must assume that they would set anything to detonate… Much like Nora Myers' online private documentation storage cache?"

Eric's thoughts went back to the year before, when he had just barely managed to find the assassin's online journal, which was set to erase itself at nine in the morning unless halted. He took a deep breath through his nose. Now he understood. "You think they're going to self-destruct?"

Hetty tilted her head minutely. "No. I believe they will erase themselves, eradicating any leads we might achieve through them… I am having them checked for external explosives currently, however."

Eric widened his eyes.

"Just in case." Hetty added. She clasped her hands behind her back. "They will be cleared by the time you arrive. Please check them and bring them back when you feel it is safe."

Eric nodded, a plan of action already coming to his mind. "On it." He stood and began gathering his stuff quickly.

* * *

><p>From where she sat in the ambulance, Kensi watched her partner's lifeless form mournfully. She was still angry beyond words at Thorn. But, it hardly compared to the anger she felt towards herself. She hadn't listened. Not to her inner alarms, not to Joy, and she hadn't paused to fully think it through… She should've stopped Deeks from returning to the Garcia home. She shouldn't have heard Joy's concerns and then blown them off as nothing. This kid had been extraordinarily accurate with her hunches in the past.<p>

_This is my fault._

The bleak thought kept returning to haunt her. Her partner was her responsibility in these types of situations, and Joy had been entrusted to her. Now they were headed to the hospital… Deeks, with no memory of her, of NCIS, of the LAPD, and believing that they were mortal enemies, and, Joy, with torture wounds.

_Why didn't I stop this somehow?_

Kensi felt the angry tears filling her eyes. She knew she was better than this. The fact that Callen had tried to take all the blame from her only intensified her feelings. He had been in the hospital just hours before rushing to their rescue, for crying out loud.

One of the EMT's moved along where Deeks lay to grab a file that was lying by his feet, distracting Kensi from her thoughts. Deeks still wasn't moving. His hair was partly damp, sticking to one side of his pale face. His breathing was steady and calm, the oxygen mask fogging up every time he took a breath. Another EMT was sitting by his head, holding pressure on his arm wound.

Kensi felt the guilt all over again. She had put that wound there unintentionally. But, she was the reason he would be waking up with a splitting headache. It was all her.

_He'll know that I did this to him. _She thought to herself despairingly. _If he doesn't remember me from before, he won't trust me ever again._

* * *

><p>Sam was incredibly grateful when they finally reached the hospital. He was surprised when they opened the ambulance doors, there stood Dr. Rodgers and Dr. Waters, themselves.<p>

"Docs." Sam greeted them loudly, over the frightened cries Joy was letting out. She had gotten more agitated as the trip had progressed. He climbed down from the ambulance hurriedly and got out of the way, so that the medics and doctors could attend to the wounded. He had been fighting his own anxiety over his partner's lack of fight on the way to the hospital. Callen seemed to be out of any energy, whatsoever; lying with eyes closed and breathing hard. Sam had caught sight of a wince on G's features, before he had forced it away. Sam was completely ready for the doctors to take over.

The medics and doctors unloaded both patients within seconds, barking medical jargon back and forth to each other, the EMT's explaining the extent of the injuries they had found on both, and the doctors asking questions, all of which was done over Joy's tears.

Dr. Rodgers took in Joy's size and told Dr. Waters, "Get her to the Children's ER. Full scans and blood panels. Get her calm and report back."

Dr. Waters nodded, and went with two of the EMT's to take the rolling gurney to the third large wing of the enormous Emergency Room, the side that specialized in children and teenagers.

Dr. Rodgers motioned to the other EMT's to get the barely-conscious Callen into one of the two adult ER wings quickly. The male EMT, still keeping pressure on G's side, stayed alert, not looking away from the wound besides to glance ahead to where he was walking.

Sam followed them, surprised when Dr. Rodgers turned to the blonde EMT that had been so firm with Callen and asked her, "Did you report to Ms. Lange yet?"

"No way." The woman answered lowly, glancing down at their patient as they navigated the first hallways of the ER. "I only jumped in as a favor. I ain't delivering any bad news."

"Be that as it may, I've cleared you to stay and help me."

"Aw hell, you didn't." The blonde woman frowned, giving the doctor an upset look.

Sam looked between them with concern, not understanding what was going on.

Dr. Rodgers looked down the long hallway that led to the High Profile rooms. "Sure did. Ms. Lange said to tell you how much she appreciates you helping us out."

The EMT breathed out a laugh. "Great. Sure. Where do you want me, Mister Rodgers? And, for how long?"

The doctor looked at her with a raised eyebrow at what she had called him. He told her, "I need you as my right hand until I can get Nurse Wang back. She and Dr. Kyle are tending to two others, and I just lost Dr. Waters to the Children's ER… Two hours? Can you give me that?"

The blonde woman finally nodded her head, staying silent. The doctor saw, and took a quiet breath of relief.

Sam finally asked, "What's going on?"

Dr. Rodgers answered as they finally got Callen into HP Room 7, "Miss Lange informed me of the situation prior to the rescue and we both agreed I might need another pair of hands. She knew of Nurse Kass' skills and called her in to ride to the scene." Dr. Rodgers pointed to the male EMT who was still at Callen's side. "You hand off to her as soon as she's prepped."

The male Medic nodded.

All three of the medical persons then worked together to transfer Callen from the gurney to the examination bed using a draw sheet.

Sam stood back, watching. He was concerned at first over the blonde nurse, but now he felt confident that Hetty had cleared this Nurse for a reason. His partner would be taken care of, even if G was apprehensive of her. He wondered briefly if this would end up being humorous.

The Nurse shed her current pair of gloves to take off her EMT jacket and throw it against a far wall. Then she was sanitizing her hands while glancing over all the instruments and bandages and other assorted items that were standing ready on the long countertop along one side of the room. She put on a new pair of gloves, picked up a pair of fabric-cutting scissors and returned to the patient's side. Nurse Kass handed the scissors to the doctor, who had just taken the oxygen off of the patient, and then quickly took over for the male Medic, putting pressure on the wound on Callen's left side.

The male Medic made sure that he was dismissed, and when Dr. Rodgers indicated he was, he left, pulling off his bloody gloves on his way out.

_And we're back. Home sweet home. _Sam thought sullenly as he looked around the room they had been in just hours before, and that they'd spent hours in a year ago. He was beginning to feel like he needed to carve his name in the wall or something. He crossed his arms and watched as Dr. Rodgers began getting Callen out of his clothes, all while Kass held pressure on his side wound. He wanted them to get G stable so he could start giving him a hard time for leaving in the first place.

The doctor was draping a gown over Callen, which the nurse helped him do with one hand, then finished getting the patient out of his clothing. He started speaking in low tones to Kass, going over all of the wounds he had found. "Right ankle, procedure from earlier. Looks irritated… Right shoulder grazed, bullet wound. Will need stitches… Bruised left eye. Check for damage... Slice on the palm of right hand. Might use stitches alternative… Dehydrated. Mild to moderate. Start fluids… Blood loss needs to be checked. Blood panel, as well… Left waist wound. Let's take a look."

The doctor began looking at Callen's wound with the nurse's help. Sam didn't miss that whatever the doctor was doing seemed to wake Callen up. Painfully.

Callen's blue eyes blinked in misery for a few moments before he closed his eyes on purpose, his jaw working as he kept himself from making a sound. His breathing became a bit strained.

Dr. Rodgers checked the wound, speaking quietly with Nurse Kass about possible injuries to the pancreas and spleen. They decided quickly that the wound hadn't done that kind of damage. It had just allowed a lot of blood to be lost. The older man commented that he was going to get another set of hands, and that he would be right back.

The moment Dr. Rodgers stepped back and directed the nurse to resume putting pressure on the wound, Sam stepped closer to his partner and put a hand on his shoulder. "You good?" Sam asked quietly, trying not to be too mothering. After all, this was the Lone Wolf himself. In these moments, he was going to be stern, and hope that Callen remembered that he didn't like being in the hospital, and that going it alone usually ended up this way. He'd save the mothering for later.

Callen opened his eyes and trained them on Sam. Instead of answering the question, he asked wearily, "Did you get the two I left in the alley?"

Sam instantly felt annoyed. He let his hand slip from G's shoulder. Sam glanced at the nurse, who stared at Callen's side, not saying a word. He didn't want to have this conversation right now, in the middle of G getting patched up. If anything, Callen should be denied information until he was in better shape. However, he knew that his partner wouldn't let it rest until he knew. Sam shook his head. "Got away. Eric thinks all four escaped." He told him, anticipating that Callen was not going like the answer. There was a good chance that with the doctor and nurse working on G, he wouldn't put up a fight as he normally would. That was all Sam could hope for as he saw Callen's eyebrows furrow.

The original Callen intensity brewed up in his steely gaze. His breathing quickened. He licked his lips, and his eyes flicked to glance at the nurse who was watching him carefully from his side.

Sam waited, knowing G was getting his words together. He was surprised when they were finally spoken.

"You stay with her." Callen said, breathlessly.

Sam was puzzled for a moment, but then that strange look entered Callen's eyes again. The Ex-SEAL knew in an instant what his partner was saying. Sam shook his head. Keeping his voice low, he protested, "G, I'm staying with you."

G surprised him yet again by not arguing, but pleading, "Sam. I'll be fine- but I need someone with her that gets it… Please."

Suddenly, Sam understood what G's strange look meant in ten-thousand ways. He was attached to the kid. In a family way. Callen _never_ did that. Sam took a breath. At least it made sense now. G felt like it wasn't safe yet, so he was asking the one he trusted most to be the protector while he couldn't be._ He thinks Pure could come after her again._

Sam asked quietly, "You'd rather me stay with her and leave you to do the hospital thing alone?"

The nurse glanced at him from concentrating on Callen. Sam was sure it was the "hospital thing" mention. He ignored her, keeping his eyes on his partner.

G gave him a weak, crooked smile, "Don't I deserve that?"

"You deserve that and a lot more." Sam told him seriously, not being able to help the emotions that still raging beneath the surface. He knew that G could see the remains of his fear and explosive anger in his eyes. He betted that the blue-eyed agent would understand that he was not off the hook for the stunt he had pulled.

Callen let the smile slip from his face. Blinking tiredly, remorse filled his eyes. _I worried you, I know. I'm sorry._ G's look told him.

Sam reached out a hand and gently squeezed G's shoulder. He let his eyes soften a little more, and communicated in his gaze, _Right. There's always a reason. I get that. I'm mad, but we'll work through this. Again. We'll save it for later. _

Callen gave the faintest nod, gratitude filling his eyes.

Sam removed his hand. He said lowly, "Tell me again."

G's stare became urgent, even in his extreme weak state. "Stay with Joy. Protect her."

Sam hesitated. He didn't want to do this, but he knew G's reasons were always based on facts of some sort. He didn't doubt that something had happened while fighting Pure that made Callen want to be sure Joy was safe from now on. "Okay." Sam said.

"Deeks and Kensi… They made it, right?"

Sam furrowed his brow. "Yeah."

Callen nodded slightly, taking a small breath. "They need protection, Sam."

"G?" He wanted to know what the smaller man knew that he didn't.

Callen fixed his eyes on Sam's and put all of his strength behind his words, "They're _that_ good, Sam."

Sam thought through everything that he had learned about Pure over the last year. He agreed that they were surprising, that they didn't play by rules, and that they were persistent. Callen could be overreacting… but what if he wasn't? He had just blasted through their building and pulled off a single-handed rescue. G knew, and he would have to trust his partner's instincts yet again. Sam pressed his lips together. He nodded, giving his word.

Some of the fight seemed to leave G as soon as Sam acknowledged that he would do what he asked, and he sank down a bit, relaxing into the examination bed.

Concern over how wounded Callen was filled Sam.

G saw his concern and told him, joking faintly, "I'll behave for the vampires."

"G." Sam warned.

Instead of verbally sparring anymore, Callen closed his eyes, obviously seeking rest while he could.

* * *

><p>Kensi sat in the extraordinarily busy ER room, the small cubicle they had her in was directly across from the one that they had her partner in. Deeks was still unconscious, but Dr. Kyle and Nurse Erika Wang were hovering over the examination bed that they had him in. He was restrained at his wrists and his ankles. Kensi hadn't wanted to tell them, but she worried what her blonde haired partner would do if he woke up and didn't remember her. They had listened to her explanation and decided that he should be restrained. As they had dressed him in a hospital gown, examined him, tended to his wounds, and drew his blood, they have been careful to keep him tied down.<p>

She swallowed. Watching was one of the hardest things she could get herself to do. She didn't like to watch. She had been a watcher for all her life, and it drained the life out of her. She had watched her boyfriend slip away, or, hit the ground, as he called it. She had watched her first partner die, and there had been nothing she could do. She had watched Dom die, again, helplessly. She didn't want to lose Deeks, not in his death, or in his memories.

_What will I do if he doesn't remember me?_

A hand was suddenly on Kensi's knee, startling her. Kensi focused. Nurse Erika was standing before the examination table she sat on. The nurse gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry that took so long. Dr. Kyle will finish with detective Deeks. How about we look at that arm now?" Erika asked.

Kensi gave Erika a weak, fake smile and a nod.

As Erika began unbinding her arm, Kensi's eyes tracked back over to her partner. After several moments of watching him, and the Dr. who was writing on his file next to the bed, Kensi asked quietly, "When will my partner wake up?"

The nurse continued to work on Kensi's arm as she answered, "We think it'll be soon. Dr. Kyle thinks it might even be in the next few minutes." The nurse looked up at Kensi's eyes. "Don't worry about your partner. The knife wound wasn't that deep. It looked worse than it was."

Kensi bit her lip and nodded.

The nurse started cleaning Kensi's wound. "Looks like you're going to need stitches."

"Did Marty need stitches?" Kensi asked the question before she even knew she had said it. She wished she could take it back, especially since she had used his first name instead of his last.

Erika nodded. "Seventeen. But he should heal fine."

Kensi balked at the number. That knife wound hadn't been anything small. Again she felt guilty. She swallowed. "And... What about the memory loss?"

Erika paused in handling Kensi's arm. "Well, seeing as how Agent Callen had the same type of thing happen to him and Dr. Gentry was able to reverse it, Dr. Kyle is optimistic that she will be able to do the same for your partner."

"Dr. Gentry?" Kensi repeated. She hadn't heard of this person, but if she was the one who had brought Callen's memories back, maybe she had already been cleared by Hetty.

"Yes. Dr. Kyle has already recalled her to the hospital. She should be here soon." Erika gave Kensi a big smile. "You should've seen how annoyed she was when Agent Callen left. She's a really sweet, grandmotherly woman, and I do believe she cussed a few times. Something about that man robbing her of any research potential whatsoever." Erika giggled. "Agent Callen is going to have some explaining to do. She may admit him just to get even."

* * *

><p>Sam strode down the long hallways heading to the children's side of the ER. As he walked from one side of the enormous Emergency Room to the third wing, he held his phone to his ear calling Hetty, wondering about what Callen had said. Their petite boss answered after the third ring.<p>

_"Sam?"_

"Hetty, we made it the hospital." Sam told her, knowing she would already know.

_"What is your status, Agent Hanna?"_ Hetty asked lowly.

Sam glanced around as he passed doctors and nurses in the hallways, patients and pulled curtains. He knew Kensi and Deeks were in this section, but he wasn't sure where. "They're all with doctors. We are spread out in three ER wings. G thinks that we're in danger."

Hetty was silent for a moment.

Sam had time to lay eyes on the nurses' desk when Hetty finally replied.

"_What did he say, Sam?"_

"Told me to protect Joy. Said Kensi and Deeks needed protection, too. He said Pure is _that_ good, Hetty."

Hetty took a breath. _"Callen surely knows what he's talking about. I'll send you some reinforcements."_

"All right." Sam paused next to the nurses' desk, the short brunette there glancing up at him.

_"How is he, Sam?"_

Sam turned his back on the brunette and looked at the floor. "Injured. But he'll be fine, Hetty. You know G; he will bounce right back."

_"Oh, I expect that... And, Agent Blye and Detective Deeks?"_

"I'm locating them now. Kensi seemed fine. Deeks on the other hand..."

_"Am I to take it that Detective Deeks is not faring as well as the others?"_

Sam looked around the hallway and took a few steps away from the nurse. He wasn't sure how much he should tell Hetty. "Kensi said she thinks Pure stole his memory. G told me Deeks attacked him."

_"Oh, hell… Callen damaged my detective, didn't he?"_

Sam blinked. "He counted Deeks as one of the ones he left alive on purpose."

Hetty let out a thoughtful sound. _"Agent Callen's tally list is becoming quite impressive..."_

Sam didn't feel like standing in the gap for his partner this time. He had been thinking exactly the same thing: Callen was going to be in trouble for a lot of things. He allowed a grim smile to creep over his face. At least Hetty was saying _Agent_ Callen. There was a good chance she wouldn't fire him for this stunt. He stayed silent, waiting for Hetty speak.

_"Keep me apprised, Sam. I'll get to the hospital as soon as I can."_

"Got it."

_"Do what you do best."_ Hetty reminded softly, before ending the call.

Sam pocketed his phone, remembering that Hetty said that out of concern for Callen._ Yeah, I'll watch his back. Even if he's not watching mine. Even if he thinks he's invincible. Even if he never learns._

He turned back to the nurses' desk and asked where he could find Deeks and Kensi. The nurse pointed him to a couple of cubicles that were in the back left corner of the wing. Heading over there, Sam tried to memorize the turns and how many rooms he had to pass to get to them. This ER was so big. All he had down was the part that Callen was always brought to.

Finally, Sam found the curtained cubicle that held Kensi, who had just finished getting her stitches and bandages on her arm. She was sitting on an examination table, left alone for the moment.

She gave Sam a weak smile when she saw him.

Sam smiled back at her softly, and then looked over to see an unconscious Deeks, his examination bed in the cubical directly across from Kensi's. "How are you two holding up?" He asked.

Kensi answered, her tale-tell courage in her voice, as always. "We're good. Dr. Kyle thinks that Deeks will be fine. They've called in Dr. Gentry. She will evaluate him when she gets here."

Sam turned back to regard Kensi. "They think she can bring back his memory?"

Kensi shrugged, a troubled look in her eyes. "They seem to think that she's the only one who can."

The ex-Seal found himself nodding, agreeing that point even if he didn't want to. He looked over at where Deeks lay again. It was hard to imagine that the detective had attacked Callen and come away this unscathed, but after the memory loss that Sam had seen Callen walk through, he didn't think that anything was impossible anymore. He hoped that getting Deeks his memories back would be as easy as the injection and coping with flashbacks.

"Sam?" Kensi's voice suddenly sounded unsure. "What if Deeks doesn't ever remember? What if… What if he never remembers us?"

Sam turned, his brow furrowed. He didn't like the sadness that he saw in Kensi eyes. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "We are a team, Kenz. We won't let Deeks go like that. We will stay together and keep working it out." Sam gave her a mischievous grin. "Last resort? I'll bounce him off a rock 'til he remembers."

Kensi obviously appreciated Sam's attempt to lighten the mood. She gave him a small smile. "We'll try the waterboarding before that?"

Sam gave her a solemn nod. "And _before that_, he'll have to deal with Hetty."

"He'd better remember, then."

"My thoughts exactly."

A small moan interrupted the two. They both looked as one over to where Deeks lay. He was weakly beginning to move, pulling a little on the restraints that held his wrists. Sam and Kensi quickly walked over to where he was.

Marty's face was beginning to grimace, looking like he was in pain.

Sam glanced at Kensi. "Where's the doctor?"

Kensi looked up at him and shook her head once. She didn't know.

_~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA___~NCIS:LA_~NCIS:LA~____

The pain in his head was throbbing, he was nauseous. He couldn't place why he was achy or felt uncomfortable. Things weren't coming together as they normally did.

Marty opened his eyes. There were fuzzy florescent lights on the ceiling. He was on his back. Blinking several times, trying to get his eyesight to come into focus, he tried to determine where he was. The smell was sterile. It was cold. There were two figures standing nearby.

He worked to get his hands free of the covers to rub his eyes. It took a few moments, before he realized he wasn't tangled up in covers.

_I'm stuck... Tied down._

His breathing picked up and he fought harder to get his arms free, suddenly feeling like his life was in danger. Trying to move his legs added to his fear: his ankles were bound, too. His eyesight cleared, letting him see his surroundings, which he took in wildly, still trying to get free. He was in a medical-type area.

There was a dark-skinned, well-built man watching him with what looked like assault gear on. And there was a woman standing next to him, a concerned look on her face.

He recognized her.

_The undercover op… Fern._

With the recognition, he remembered Angel and Agent One. They were the only ones he trusted. This woman had fought with him.

_She captured me._

The feeling of being in danger grew until it was suffocating. Marty worked not to let out any sounds of fear. He pulled away from the bed hard, trying desperately to get free so he could defend himself.

The woman stepped forward, swiftly, causing Marty to hold his next breath, thinking she was going to hit him.

Instead, she took hold of his tense shoulders, saying softy, "Hey. Hey, Marty. It's okay. You're okay. Don't pull. Shh shhhhh, calm down."

Marty met her eyes, breathing hard, becoming still. He had his body the few centimeters he could move away from her. He swallowed hard. His lips pressed together.

She stared at him, her deep brown eyes seeming to catch all of the fear in his blue eyes.

He tried to catch his breath. The deep-down seeded instinct to fight back even when the odds were against him rose inside his chest in the middle of his panic. The feeling had been born from several incidents with his alcoholic father when he was little. All over again, he was an eight-year-old, facing off against the man who had made his life hell. He allowed the shreds of his stubbornness to rise to the top of his fear. He parted his lips and, putting every ounce of his cornered feelings into his voice, said lowly, "Let me go."

The woman's eyes became pained. "Deeks, I can't… I'm sorry. Not until the doctors clear you."

Marty clenched his jaw. He knew his eyes were getting stormy. He didn't understand what was going on. He couldn't remember. And now, the people who knew about him, were nowhere to be found. He closed his eyes and swallowed again. He turned his face away from her, his heart thudding in his chest.

He whispered, equally to the woman and to his past, "Just… let me go."

* * *

><p>[A note from the Authoress: Great apologies to all of you, my beloved readers. I'm sorry for crafting this to where I have to pour so much my heart into each chapter. Sometimes it takes forever to put them together to where I'm pleased. And, I'm afraid it gets worse. I need to take a hiatus on writing this until March 2013. There has been some real life situations arise, and they desperately need my attention. No, I am not ending Pure Agony here, Lord willing. I have the makings for another 15 chapters in this fic. There's much more to come and to reveal. Pure is not gone. Callen knows it. What <em>does<em> Pure know? Will Eric find out? And what about Deeks? Will he get his memory back? Much love to you each. –Keviana]


	19. Broken

Chapter 19: Broken

3:14 AM

Deeks tried to ignore the soft words the woman he knew as Fern said over him. She was acting like she was concerned and wanted to comfort him, but it couldn't be. Could it? He didn't remember. There was nothing. A blank wall of thoughts, just like the curtain hanging around where he lay.

The blank scared him.

He remembered his deceased mother. He remember his stupid drunkard father. He remembered the incident that had ended his so-called home life. He remembered Ms. Deeks adopting him and her funeral. But the things he _should _know, he didn't.

_Where am I? Am I in California? Sacramento, or some other city? Who owns this place? Do these people own it? Why did Angel and Agent One leave? Are they dead? Did I do something wrong? I helped them arrange the meeting with Fern... _

"-will be able to help you." The woman was saying. "I don't know how much you remember right now, but the doctors think they can help."

Marty shivered without meaning to. He didn't care for doctors, he remembered that much. He just wanted to be untied. Every fiber of his being told him he was in danger in this place. It didn't matter that his head was throbbing, his upper arm felt weird, his stomach was nauseous, or that he was exhausted. He understood survival. Laying here wasn't helping anything. He needed to be running and hiding.

"-want a drink of water or anything?"

He realized that the woman was asking him if he needed something. He forced himself to not look back at her. He clenched his fists. How hard would he have to pull to get his hands free of the restraints? Was he strong enough to get just one hand loose?

"Just stay calm, okay, Deeks? I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Her words cut through his weak barriers.

He felt she meant it.

_But, she's the enemy!_ His eyes filled with tears. He didn't want to trust one more person.

_Leave me alone!_

* * *

><p>About the time that Sam decided to go find a nurse or doctor, Deeks seemed to find a burst of defiant energy from someplace. He began trying futilely to get free of the restraints again.<p>

"Deeks, please! Stop struggling! It's okay, we're not going to hurt you!" Kensi begged from his side, trying to calm him and failing miserably.

Deeks didn't trust her anymore, and his reasoning didn't seem to take into account that Sam was bigger and stronger and could halt him from going just about anywhere. His body shook as he strained away from Kensi's touch, his blue eyes filled with moisture.

"Let me go!" He gasped breathlessly.

Sam felt a tug of sympathy in his heart for the guy- Deeks was clearly in pain and, by not listening to Kensi, he was hurting himself worse. Sam took several steps back to where he was in the long hallway. He called, "Nurse! Could use some help here!" Sam had no more stepped back into the cubical, than Nurse Erika came rushing into the area. Dr. Kyle wasn't far behind her.

Kensi was going between trying to explain to Erika what had happened and begging Marty to be still.

It became obvious to Sam what was needed and he felt heartless as he did it: gently grasping Kensi's upper arms, he firmly pulled her back, away from the examination bed so the Doctor could get closer to Marty. Kensi didn't protest as hard or as much as Sam had anticipated, so he pulled her all the way out to the hallway and away a little. As soon as he was able to, he turned Kensi around to face him.

"Kenz." He said softly, ready to remind her that she needed to let the medical staff help Deeks. The look in her eyes stopped him.

Kensi's lips were pressed together, her eyes were slightly wider than normal, and her brow showed worry. She was silent, staring up at Sam, her gaze begging to be rescued from what was happening.

Sam got it instantly. Kensi wanted to fix it, and she was afraid it couldn't be fixed. In her eyes were the questions. _What if Marty doesn't ever remember me? What if we can't be partners anymore? What if this turns fatal? What if I'm the problem?_ Sam shook his head negatively, saying lowly, "You can't fix this. But the doctors were able to help G. There's a good chance this is temporary."

Kensi's lips parted stickily and she got out, "But what if-"

"We can't think like that, Kenz." Sam said, stopping her. "Look, you have to be on your A Game right now. You've got to watch his back. Callen thinks we're all still in danger, and that includes you and Deeks."

Kensi seemed to gather herself some, her self-pity and shame taking a back seat to her defensive side. She blinked and straightened beneath Sam's grasp. "Callen thinks they will try again tonight?"

"Yeah. And Hetty thinks G knows what he's talking about."

Kensi took a breath, all business. "Deeks won't be able to defend himself."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Exactly. That's why you have to be on guard. Don't let him out of your sight."

"Done." Kensi said, her eyes becoming hard. "We have access to any weapons?"

"Officially? No. Unofficially?" Sam released her and pulled his backup flip-knife from his leg holster. He handed to her. "License to kill remains intact. Be careful."

She nodded and put the knife in the back pocket of her pants in a way that ensured it would come free easily. "Understood."

* * *

><p>Eric stepped out of the backseat of the blue SUV that Hetty had dispatched him in. He pulled his computer "geek" kit out with him: a silver, ridged briefcase. He pressed his lips together hard. He shivered beneath his hoodie and full backpack. The scene before him was utter destruction. There were burning remains of the building where Callen had rescued Joy, Kensi, and Deeks. The Assault Team stood by, along with several LAPD, as well. Yellow tape was blocking off the area from any early morning gawkers... not that there were any.<p>

"Sir, the lead officer is Thomas." The driver Hetty had assigned to Eric pointed out his open window towards a certain Team member dressed in black.

Eric swallowed nervously. "Thanks." He said quietly, closing his door and stepping toward the person the man had indicated.

The driver nodded at him as Eric passed his window. "I'll be ready to take off whenever you are."

"Great." Eric answered, meaning it completely. He was tired and ready to be done for the night. With each hour that passed, he was wishing for that crazy caffeine gum that Abby had given him. It was in his backpack, just in case. Sure, Sam had said to never touch the gum again, but Eric was certain he'd just been irritable from being up for 36 hours straight. _He didn't mean it._

Eric walked up to the man that he had been directed to. The man was about as tall as he was and very muscular. He was dressed in the typical assault gear, complete with two guns extremely visible at his sides. He seemed serious. He put off a dangerous aura. Eric worked not to be intimidated. After all, he could hack the Pentagon in 13.3 seconds. Doubtful this man could hack anything but a loogie.

The man trained his gaze on Eric, halting his conversation with the LAPD officer standing next to him, who was obviously taking down a report. Officer Thomas waited for Eric to speak.

Eric told him, "Mr. Thomas? I'm Eric Beale. OPS sent me to look at the computers you recovered."

The man looked Eric in the eye and showed relief. He seemed pleased that he was there. "We assembled a workspace for you after we checked the computers over for explosives. They're safe. Follow me?"

Eric let out a small breath he had been holding over the mention of explosives from Hetty earlier. He was grateful to hear that the computers had finished being searched. He had seen what Pure did with explosives, not just this year, but last, also. He was ready to be back at Ops, where the odds of being blown up were way less. He nodded at the Officer and followed him away from most of the hubbub.

As far away from the demolished building as possible yet still inside the yellow, cordoned-off area, there was a blue tarp on the concrete alleyway. Sitting on top of it were three laptops and four desktops. There was a small generator nearby, and a 16-inch monitor standing at the ready. There was a police car about a stone's throw away, but it was obvious that the computers had been checked out as if they were about to blow. That brought Eric some comfort. They had taken the potential threat seriously.

Officer Thomas stopped beside the tarp and put his fists on his hips. He stared at the electronics. "Hope you can get something useful off those, Beale."

Eric glanced at the man and gave him a smile that was rueful. "Me, too."

The Officer moved away and Eric got to work. He took off his backpack, put his briefcase on the ground, and sat down in front of the computers. The hard ground bit into his knees. "I miss my rolling chair in Ops." He mumbled to himself.

He wasted no time examining the exterior of the computers for himself and then plugging in two at a time to the generator.

The next forty-five minutes were a blur of hacking and uploading information to Nell.

He took no chances, connecting each machine to the internet using his gadgets, and searching frantically for erase programs, time-delayed trojans and viruses, and anything else that could be used by the enemy to wipe information off of hard-drives and online caches. He found seven on the first machine. Three of which were time-activated if not password-enabled before the countdown ended. The second machine had three.

One computer after another, he deftly sifted through information, prevented wipes, and sent Nell everything.

Finally, he blinked his tired eyes. Everything, every file, every picture, _everything_ that he could possibly use or study or give NCIS had been backed-up. He was done. He began powering down the last two computers.

Suddenly, there was someone next to him, kneeling down.

Eric started to glance to his side and caught a flash of an LAPD uniform, before there was an arm around his neck, choking him. A voice was in his ear. Harsh female. "Don't struggle."

Through his adrenalin and fear he felt the weapon; she had the muzzle of a gun pressed against his side. He froze, his heart beating wildly.

"Good boy." She snarled in a whisper. "If you want to live past ten seconds, you will tell me right now where those ambulances went. Go."

Eric kept his voice low, but stammered, trying to buy time, "W-what a-am-ambulances?"

"Six seconds." She growled, tightening her hold around his neck and pushing the gun harder against his flesh.

Afraid, Eric realized that if he died from keeping silent, this woman would still find a way to get the information. It wasn't a secret. And Hetty would kill him if he didn't try to preserve his life. She had made it perfectly clear plenty of times in the past.

_Thorn outsmarted us again! _Eric thought desperately as he made his decision. "C-covenant H-hospital ER." He told her, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't shoot him now that he'd given her the name.

"Smart little techie." She said, moving to release his neck and stand up.

Eric stayed still.

A hard hit to the head was the last thing he felt.

* * *

><p>She took another breath.<p>

It wasn't right, it was wrong.

Pain!

White walls, screaming with childish paintings.

Loud voices.

Hurt- _That hurts!_

She heard herself cry out. It sounded so very far away.

Rough sheets - blankets? - wrapped around her by a big lady nurse with pinkish skin and dirty blonde hair. She was saying things that mixed together. Breathe? Was that what she said?

_No, don't touch me! Leave me alone. Please, just stop!_

She pushed away with all her remaining strength. Hands were holding her- touching her arms and legs. A voice was telling her to drink what was put to her lips while the hands held her slightly sitting up. The voice was insistent.

She did.

One swallow. Thick stuff.

Tasted better than cough syrup. Another swallow.

The voices were cheering her on. She just wanted to appease them so they'd leave her alone.

The hands laid her back down. Only a few hands touching her now.

Suddenly, the drugged feeling began to come back- making her heart race.

_No- no- no- no- no! No- make it stop! _She didn't want to be cut anymore- hurt anymore- over stupid questions she couldn't answer! She didn't even remember the questions anymore.

She sobbed as the drugs began to make her feel like she was floating.

_Make it stop!_

There was a tiny prick on one arm. She tried to move it off of her, but, like before with the bad guys, her limbs were too heavy to move.

Softer voices were over her. These were more comforting. The prick went away. She was hiccupping in air.

_So tired. Stop touching. Stop the light._

There was a shadow that blocked some of the light. The shadow spoke. The voice cut through her panic and fear.

"Hey, breathe, Joy. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."

_Sam. _

She wanted to say his name, but she was too tired. Too lost.

His face came near. "I'm here. Let the doctors do what they need to. I'm staying right here, okay? You can sleep if you want. Just stay calm."

_No, Sam, they won't stop- Please!_

A massive hand clasped hers. It felt different. It felt safe.

Sam had taken her hand.

His voice was low when he spoke, breaking through the haze like a light, "I'm watching your back. You can rest. No one's going to hurt you."

Joy squeezed Sam's hand as hard as she could- knowing her grasp was faint- and realized that Sam was telling the truth. She _could_ rest. He was here, and he'd be sure she stayed safe. Her internal turmoil released at that moment and she started breathing easier.

The drugs pulled her into oblivion.

* * *

><p>The rush of light was a shock.<p>

Callen wanted to grimace. He didn't, since it was simply light that had woken him, this time. He'd passed out again. The adrenalin that had pumped through his veins was gone, completely used; all that remained was a sickly shell-shocked body that was ready to sleep for two days. Yet the fear wouldn't let him. Doctor Rodgers was working on his side still. The mean nurse was still standing above him. There were a couple of other people here now, assisting.

The lights were bright. He closed his eyes to escape it, bringing relief to his tense head. It was as if his eye sockets themselves were exhausted. He just needed to relax...

The people surrounding him were talking quietly about his side. He was glad they had used local anesthesia on it already. He still hurt in other various places, but now he felt he would survive. That wound had hurt like a mug.

_Joy._

He remembered again.

Callen opened his weary eyes and stared at the white, bright ceiling above, worry coursing through him.

_Sam's with her. She's safe._

He tried to steer himself away from the thoughts. Focus on what was being done to him.

_Moya mladshaya sestra. Ona nakhoditsya v opasnosti. _Callen thought without meaning to. He grimaced and closed his eyes. If he was thinking in Russian, he was more out-of-it than usual. He tiredly translated it into English just to prove to himself that he could: _My little (younger) sister. She is in danger._

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and Dr. Rodgers' voice was close to his face. "You with us, Callen?"

G focused his tired eyes on the older man leaning over him, who was watching him measuredly. He took a small breath and gave the Doctor a nod.

Dr. Rodgers didn't smile, but his eyes softened in their calculating look. "I'm about to start you on fluids and a myriad of other things that have to go in you with a needle. Just wanted to give you a head's up and see if you might work with us in keeping yourself still."

Callen felt the old fear attempt to come back. With how miserable he felt, he just assured himself he'd feel better and batted it aside. If needles were the only way to get better so he could go back to protecting Joy and bringing down Pure... G nodded at the Doctor, licked his lips, and settled down, focusing on remaining as still as he could.

He missed the surprised look on Dr. Rodgers' face. And also the way the Doctor turned and motioned to his colleagues to begin doing everything they needed to do. Quickly.

Callen's mind drifted before they had even stuck him. If Pure was stupid enough to try to attack while they were at the hospital, Sam would stop them.

_Sam understands,_ he thought, comforting his anxiety.

He was able to place all his faith on that fact.

* * *

><p>Nell heard the panic on the comm units and it pulled her from her work. She looked up and stared at the camera angles that were on big screen #1. Her eyes widened.<p>

The Assault Team had guns drawn and a few were yelling at LAPD to help them search the area around the smoldering building. Their voices were overlapping each other.

_"-epeat, the computer tech is down! Need medical assistan-"_

_"-went this way! Williams, on me!"_

_"Medics being dispatch-"_

_"-eep eyes open on the South and West of the building, please copy-"_

_"Copy!"_

_"Copy! Moving!"_

_"-call OSP, report immediently-"_

_Computer tech? Eric!_ Nell leaped for her phone, trembling with sudden fear as she called Hetty.

The two other junior computer techs in the room were gathering what was happening. They both looked to her, mouths open.

Phone ringing in her ear, Nell barked at them both, "Get a report from Officer Thomas! Access all nearby camera feeds! Find out what happened to Eric! Move!"

Hetty's voice answered, _"Miss Jones?"_

"Hetty, it's Eric."

* * *

><p>Sweating, Marty felt his breathing calm as he watched the older woman come to stand beside his rumpled bed. She glanced down at his restraints. She was wearing a white coat, so she was a doctor, but she motioned the others to back up, so she must be a doctor with authority.<p>

She turned to stare down at him with caring eyes. "Are you calming down, now, young man?" She asked him.

Looking up into her eyes, he felt a little safer. He suddenly wanted to tell her everything and beg her to let him go. She would understand. He could see it in her eyes. She seemed to get what he was going through.

She reminded him of Ms. Deeks.

Ms. Deeks had worn her silver hair exactly like this woman had, pulled back in a loose bun.

Marty allowed himself to relax a little. She wasn't threatening like the others were. He didn't reply verbally to her question, but he managed a small nod.

She smiled at him. "Good. You can stop getting agitated now. I'm here, and I'm here to help. Will you try to stay calm for me?"

Deeks nodded, mesmerized by how safe her words made him feel. He was tired. He couldn't pull away anymore.

"Thank you." She said, sincerely meaning it. "Now, you don't have to speak, but I need some answers to some questions. Will you help me out?"

Marty nodded again.

"Good, good." The woman placed her aged hand on his upper arm. "Do you have a headache?"

It was then that Marty realized that his head was aching even worse than before his attempts to get free. He winced slightly at the realization. He gave her a nod.

She didn't seem upset that he wasn't talking out-loud. She nodded as if she had expected it. "They told me that you got a bump on your head. May I examine it?"

Marty's heart leapt. She knew about the head-bump! Just like Angel and Agent One. He loved this woman. She _was _trying to help him! He nodded again.

"Alright." She said kindly, pulling gloves out of her white coat pocket. "Just tell me if you start to feel nauseous." The worry that entered Deeks' eyes made her pause. "You already feel nauseous?"

Marty nodded, and added softly, "Yeah."

She nodded and glanced back at the group of people standing quietly at the entrance of the cubical. "Set up a CT scan, please, Dr. Kyle." She turned back to Deeks. "Before we go too far, we should check your head a little better, Martin. Want to be sure there's not any bleeding inside... " She grinned at the frown on Marty's face from being called 'Martin', and continued, "Will you promise me to cooperate when we go to get you scanned?"

Deeks breathed more rapidly for a second, then asked quietly, "Are you going, too?"

The older woman looked both flattered and pleased, "Yes. I'm going to stick with you until we have you better. Does that sound alright to you?"

Marty nodded. He swallowed down his fear.

The woman leaned forward and started gently using her fingers to palpitate his head. "By the way," She said lowly, "I'm Dr. Sophia Gentry... It's nice to meet you, Marty."

* * *

><p><em>Callen's eyes filled with tears as he slowly walked up to it. <em>

_Alina's grave was before him. The grass was green on the gravesite. Flowers were dying in a vase by the plain headstone. Flowers that he, himself, had put there. _

Malen'kaya Sestra...

_The death he regretted the most; it still felt like he was being stabbed in the heart. _

_She had been trying to save him, and he hadn't known. He could've saved her. _

_He clenched his fists. _

_He _should've_ saved her. _

_He turned in the cool breeze to look to his left._

_There was another grave. _

_The white headstone was in place. The grass around the grave was alive, but the dirt was newly turned. _

_His breath caught when he read the name on the headstone: Joy Esmerelda Garcia._

_Was this his fault, too? He breathed harder, trying to remember. He had seen her recently... Hadn't he?_

_She hadn't died long ago, judging by the ground and the two, fresh, pink, Gerber daisies laying in front of the headstone._

_He gritted his teeth, the tears threatening to fall again. _

No.

_It wasn't fair. _

_Forget finding the parents who'd given him up! He'd had three sisters who'd wanted him, and now the last of the three was dead._

_It had to be his fault. He couldn't keep any of them alive._

_Frustration pooled in his eyes. _

_The landscape became bright, as if the sun was growing in strength. Callen ignored it until it became almost blinding, wiping away the landscape around him from sight. _

_Surprised, he brought his hand up to block the light._

What's going on?

_A strange feeling came over him. One of warmth. It was like his fear was being wrapped up in safety. His pain faded away. He blinked in confusion. _

_A soft, solid male voice echoed around him, not startling him, but spreading through his being, pausing his sorrow. In it, his past was addressed and his longings met. _

_**I will speak to you.**_

_The words echoed several times in his heart and mind, as if they were all that mattered to his soul. The peaceful feeling that came with the voice made him want to hear more._

_"Stop moving!" A far-away female voice cried at him, breaking into the serene moment._

_Everything peaceful around him evaporated instantly._

Callen jerked awake, gasping in air.

The bright light that greeted him was harsh. The mean, blonde nurse was standing beside his bed, holding on tight to his right wrist above his sight line. He could see the bandages on his palm.

He frowned, confused. What he had just felt in the dream seemed more real than where he was now.

_Am I still dreaming?_

"It's you or me, Tiger, and I haven't lost a third of my blood. Choose wisely." The nurse warned him. She seemed upset about something.

Callen stopped moving, blinking at her.

She caught that he didn't understand what was going on. She calmed down and took a breath. "I'm checking your IV and bandages. Keep still." She commanded. When he remained still, staring at her through squinted eyes, she added, "Please."

G relaxed, trying to show the nurse that he understood what she was asking.

He didn't get why the dream was still lingering, vividly echoing through his being, but he wasn't afraid of it.

The nurse put his arm down, holding on an extra few seconds to be sure that he wouldn't move again. When she was satisfied, she began inspecting the bandage on his palm.

Callen ignored her and recalled the voice in his dream. It was real. He swallowed, his throat dry. He was so confused. _"I will speak to you."_ The words had brought comfort. Why?

G lost his train of thought quickly, and fell asleep, somehow feeling safer.

* * *

><p>Sam held onto Joy's hand, standing beside the examination bed she was lying on. He watched her rest under the drugs' influence. As he watched, he tried to understand what linked this girl to his partner besides the fact that she had saved his life. Callen would barely mention her. And any time he did, it was always within context, never bringing her up any other time in conversation. Even when Sam had gone out of his way to be sure that Joy had Callen's new number so that she could text him the little girly things that she did, Callen had acted like he didn't care. Something had happened. It was not usual for Callen to care. Nor was it explainable with a teenager.<p>

"Hi, Sam." A strangely familiar male voice broke into his thoughts quietly.

Sam turned to look toward the cubical opening.

There stood Dr. Nate Getz, wearing a wrinkled, light-blue, dress shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit, beige dress pants, and the matching dress coat draped over his arm. Nate was smiling tiredly.

"Nate!" Sam said, surprised. Without releasing Joy's hand with his left, he reached out his right awkwardly to shake the Psychologist's hand.

Nate stepped into the cubical and took his hand tightly. He was happy to see the ex-SEAL.

When they released their grasp, Sam asked him by statement, "I thought you were on assignment."

"Yeah. Hetty put in a call." Nate leaned forward as if to share a secret. "If she ever tells you she's got a flight for you, be sure to ask if it's a fighter."

Sam let out a chuckle. It was hard to picture Nate in the co-pilot's seat of a B-1 Lancer. "Did you barf?"

Nate looked proud. "No. It was exhilarating for an early morning adventure."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "You sure have changed, Nate."

The Psychologist gave him a wan smile. "Only for the better, my friend." Nate's eyes landed on the teenager before them. He took in how Sam was holding her hand and how she was resting soundly. "How is she?" He asked softly.

"Not sure." Sam told him honestly. "Docs found some residue drugs in her system... They questioned her. Used a knife. That's what all the cuts are from... She's been a wreck since the building exploded."

Nate exhaled, a troubled look on his face as he digested the information. "Is their plan to keep her drugged until they think she can handle it?"

"You're the Doctor. You tell me."

Nate raised an eyebrow at the ex-SEAL. "I'm going to find her chart. Be right back."

"I'm sure they'll let you have it." Sam nodded with his head toward the nurse's station.

Nate nodded and strode away.

Sam waited for him by testing Joy's skin temperature. She still felt cold. The four blankets the nurse had put on her didn't seem to be enough. He frowned and pulled the blankets up to her neck, being careful not to bother the bandaged area where she had been cut.

Nate walked back in, carefully studying her file, brow furrowed.

Sam remained silent, allowing him to finish.

Nate finally looked up and closed the file. "That's what they're going to do. Best course of action since she's so wound up."

Sam looked back at the unconscious teen. _Good._ He'd hoped that she'd stay asleep so he could slip back to the first wing of the ER to check on his partner.

"How are the others, Sam?" Nate's asked quietly.

"I don't know, Doc." Sam pressed his lips together, taking mental inventory of all that he knew about his teammates. "Callen went lone wolf. You know how _that _usually ends."

"Did he get shot?" Nate blurted quietly.

Sam met eyes with the Psychologist, amused that it's where his friend's mind went first. "He says he didn't, but he was bleeding pretty good from a side-wound when I found him."

The concern in Nate's eyes didn't lessen. "Hetty didn't tell me much. She just told me to find you here... Where do I need to be?"

"Take your pick," Sam muttered. "Kensi is a mess because of Deeks, Deek's memory was erased medically _and_ he has a concussion. Callen had his memory erased, too, but they have a doctor at this hospital that was able to return it. He's pretty banged up. Idiot." Sam looked down at Joy again. "And then there's this kid."

"Wait, back up..." Nate said, suddenly excited, "Did you say their memories were medically erased? And Callen's was returned? With no side-effects? How fascinating. I didn't think that was possible. How'd it happen?"

Sam glared at him, "Doc."

"Sorry." Nate said, deflating slightly. "Poor choice of words. Not fascinating. Not cool. At all." Nate paused and nodded, assuring Sam he understood and respected what Sam had been through already. "I'll read the files later. So, Thorn's doing?"

Sam nodded. "Their real organization name is 'Pure', G found that out while he was in their custody. And yeah. Erasing memories seems to be pretty easy for them. Of course, that's before they blew up their building."

"Callen was captured by them?" Nate's eyes widened. "Wow... I'm guessing that not much has gone correctly on this case?"

The ex-SEAL took a deep breath. "Not really. Four of them got away after our Assault Team got there... G's concerned they'll try to strike while we're here at the hospital."

"Hmm. Have we been made?"

"Not to my knowledge. Then again, Pure seems to be besting Hetty and G at everything... except for G's surprise attack."

Nate fell silent.

Just then, Sam got an idea. He asked, "Hey, Nate... Are you carrying?"

Nate looked surprised. He answered without hesitating, something that the old Nate wouldn't have been able to do. "Yes."

Sam nodded. "Good. I need you to do me a favor."

"Okay." The tall Psychologist waited.

"Stay with her so I can go check on G."

Nate hesitated, then asked, "Would that be going against anything that Hetty has said?"

"Would I ever ask you to go against something Hetty has said?" Sam retorted.

"Yes. In a heartbeat." Nate blinked at him. "It's happened before."

"That was G's fault. You're not scared of G, are you?"

"Not usually." Ever since Nate had dealt with Agent Callen after Thorn/Pure's first appearance, he had been able to see Callen as an equal and as less of an untouchable.

Sam gently let go of Joy's hand and stepped away from the bed. "Good, because he was the one who told me to stay with her."

Nate paused to do the math in his head.

"Keep her safe. Be back." Sam inserted into the silence, before slipping out of the cubical.

Realizing he'd lost the moment to protest, Nate let out an amused breath. Some things never changed. Namely, Sam's ultra-protectiveness of his partner.


	20. Answered

Chapter 20: Answered

3:40 AM

It was only ten minutes of unconsciousness, but it was long enough for all the medics and Assault Team members to become alarmed. The computer tech from Ops had been hit hard, and just right for maximum effect.

Finally, the blonde was moving. And groaning.

The medics that had been summoned had arrived in five minutes flat. Their examination of Eric Beale had shown that his head was bloody where he had been struck and he was unresponsive. Now that he had awoken, there was a collective sigh of relief. Especially from Officer Thomas, who knew that Ms. Lange needed to hear that her tech was alright.

Officer Vargas walked up to Thomas who stood watching.

"Can't believe he hasn't ralphed yet." Vargas commented. "If that had been me, it would've already happened."

Thomas 'harrumphed' and told him, looking away, still uneasy with their crime scene, "It will probably still happen. That was a serious concussion."

"Have you told Ms. Lange yet?"

"She's listening and watching. She knows."

Vargas pursed his lips together and nodded once. He'd forgotten that the woman was all-seeing and all-knowing.

The male medic closest to them motioned them closer, standing up, blue gloves acting like poor reflectors in the lights. "Sir, we need to get him to the hospital."

Thomas nodded in agreement. "I'll let his boss know. Taking him to Covenant?"

"Yes, sir." The medic confirmed. "The orders came in right after we arrived... Our boss must've heard from your boss."

Thomas and Vargas shared a look.

Thomas nodded grimly. "That happens a lot."

* * *

><p>"Listen to me carefully. No distractions. Kill anyone who gets in your way. We are after the girl, the blonde, and the assassin." She ground out the orders angrily. The dark kept them from seeing the look of lethal intent in her eyes. "The moment your objective is complete, withdraw to the safe house."<p>

"What if we can't get to the targets?" A male, British accent asked lowly.

"Then retreat." She barked back. The silence filled the air for a few moments before she added lowly, "No sense in getting killed during an avenging hit…" She paused. Then said simply, summing up all of her orders, "Stay alive."

There were sounds of acknowledgement from the others.

She moved towards the door, saying lowly. "The blonde one's mine."

* * *

><p>Joy's mouth opened in a silent gasp, her eyes blinking wide open in panic in the same second. The heart monitor above her showed just how fast hers had taken off; it went to marathon levels in a mere moment.<p>

Nate's hand was still in the place where Sam's had been, holding hers, but he wasn't prepared for the look that came over her face or the struggle to sit up while drugged. She had been completely out and was now the complete opposite.

"Whoa! Shh shh shh, Joy! It's okay!" He scrambled to calm her down, hoping she would recognize him in her delirious state. He stood over her and used his free hand to take hold of her shoulder.

She understood from the placement of his hand, from his voice, and from his grasp on her own hand that she wasn't in danger, but the panic didn't go away. "Nate?" Joy breathed out, ceasing her struggle to sit up. Her eyes got watery. "Coming, Nate—Coming. They're coming—Sam—I—"

Nate's brow furrowed. Something about this was way too familiar. He frowned. This wasn't the welcome he was expecting from her. She had said his name… But did she really know what was going on? This sounded like before… This sounded _exactly_ like before. "Shh! Joy! Slow down." He calmed again. "Who's coming? What about Sam?"

Joy swallowed as if she was drowning and a lone tear tracked down from her eye, disappearing into her brown hair. "They're coming…" She whispered, slowing down. "They're coming for us right now… Sam needs to know…"

Nate felt his heartbeat take off. His gaze became serious. "Are you saying the people who took you are coming? Now?"

The girl nodded, swallowing thickly, her eyes becoming heavy.

"How do you know?" Nate asked out-loud before he could stop himself. This _was_ exactly like before. And he knew what had happened back then. "Did God tell you?"

Joy nodded again, blinking tiredly. Using what seemed to be left of her strength, she whispered, "Tell… Sam…" Then she passed out.

Nate stared at her for another moment, making sure she was only back to sleep, and not in need of some sort of help, then he released her and pulled out his phone, dialing Eric.

He was surprised when Nell answered.

"Nate?"

"Hello, Nell." Before she could ask the questions he knew she had, he interrupted, "Can you please patch me through to Sam's phone? Quickly?"

"Sure." Nell said, sounding unsure, but professional, as always.

"Thanks, Nell." The Psychologist said, beginning to walk to the hallway and then back to Joy's side. The hair of the back of his neck was standing up in agitation, something that always happened when he was about to be in a confrontation of the physical nature.

"_Sam Hanna."_ The Agent answered sharply.

"Sam, it's Nate." Nate took a breath and rushed ahead. "Joy woke up a moment ago and said they're coming. She told me to tell you."

There was silence for a moment, then Sam asked, _"Did she mean Pure?"_

"The people who took her? Yes."

"_Was she lucid?"_

"Seemed to be. She passed out right after." Nate glanced at the teenager, who hadn't moved. She was resting again.

"_She's heavily drugged, Nate."_

Nate raised his eyebrows at Sam's words. He finally told him the part that had convinced him, "She said God told her." There was silence again. Nate almost wanted to bet that Sam was letting out one of his famous soundless sighs that took the place of cussing in most situations. Nate asked quietly, "Has she ever been wrong?"

"_Not to date."_ Sam mumbled, Nate knew, seeing his point. _"Alright. You keep her alive, Nate. Don't leave her side no matter what. Use deadly force if necessary. I'll let Kenz know, then I'll get to G and guard him."_

"Understood."

Sam exhaled. _"Man, I hope she's wrong this time."_

"There's a first time for everything." Nate offered.

Sam snorted. _"That's what they say. Catch you later."_

The line beeped and went dead. Nate put his phone in his pocket and looked at the curtained, one-wall cubical they were in. They would be severely outmatched against anyone who came around the corner with a gun drawn. Nate gritted his teeth and carefully began planning.

* * *

><p><em>Frustrated, Callen allowed himself to be pulled around in his dreams. He was too tired to attempt waking up anymore. <em>

_The men in black, with black hearts and carrying out black intentions, chased him, shot at him, attempted to catch him. _

_But he was always one step ahead... _

_Always one to two moves away from being stopped. _

_Callen kept running in the ever-changing background of it all; remembering the feel of some of the exotic places he'd been, and accepting the truth of the new places. He just ran. _

_At least the men dressed in black hadn't found his family. Hadn't found his team. Hadn't found the places he called home. At least, not this time. This game of chase usually ended when the bad guys found one of these things he cared about and used it to corner him._

_He had just stepped off of a long flight. All he had to do was navigate the huge international airport, and maybe he could lose them again._

_Suddenly, everything faded away._

_He breathed hard as everything became bright white around him. So white, that he couldn't see the floor or the walls, if there were either of those. G wanted to shield his eyes, but he felt too heavy, so he stood. Waiting._

_**They are coming to kill you. Do you understand?**_

_The voice was big. Male. Echoed through his being. Filled him with great fear from the enormity of it and brought him peace with how familiar and warm it felt. _

_**G, they are coming to kill you. Do you understand?**_

_Callen felt more than knew that the voice was waiting for an answer, so he replied quietly, blinking against the brightness, "I understand."_

_**He will go left. You go right.**_

_The words were hushed, as if telling a secret that only Callen himself could hear. _

_G nodded. _Go right._ He echoed to himself mentally._

_**Good. Now, wake up.**_

_Callen felt strange, as if he had been asked to do something that was impossible. His heart beat faster, and he tried to take a step back, as if he could get away from the big voice through movement._

_**Wake up!**_

G Callen opened his eyes. Instantly, he was alert, and adrenalin was powering through his body. He looked around his hospital room and realized he was alone. There were monitors and an IV hooked up to him, but he was alone.

Not hesitating, he sat up, weirded-out by how easily he was moving with how bad he felt earlier. In one smooth motion, he yanked the IV tubing away. The words of warning were echoing loudly in his heart and mind. Breathing hard, he quickly removed the tape and needle that were left. He pulled off the monitor leads next, ignoring all of the beeping that he had just started.

Carefully scooting, G got down off of the examination bed he was on. He allowed his blue eyes to narrow at the door leading to his room. Every fiber of his being screamed that the next person through that door would be here to kill him.

He was ready.

* * *

><p>The explosion that rocked the hospital was nothing short of miraculous. It happened both outside the ER wings and inside the ER wings at the same time.<p>

Everywhere people looked there was smoke, fire, and chaos.

Then, the sounds of gunfire started. In all three wings, all at the same time.

There were screams as nurses and doctors raced for cover and to help patients that were nearby.

Pandemonium broke out as security was dispatched from far-away areas of the hospital. No one could get eyes on the shooter, or shooters, but the bodies littering the floor were convincing proof that everyone was in mortal danger.

The healing zones were suddenly a war zone.

* * *

><p>Coming from the interior of the hospital, Angel, dressed in scrubs, headed for the secondary emergency room via the hospital-side entrance. Having read the placements in the computer system, she knew exactly which cubical Deeks was in.<p>

His blood would do nicely for Agent One's untimely death.

Dodging fleeing nurses, she turned down two hallways and suddenly she was there. She pulled out her six-inch combat knife and, hiding it at her side, she rushed in.

Marty, looking panicked and sick, saw her enter immediately. His face showed his delight in seeing her, no doubt believing that she was here to rescue him.

Angel gathered as she stepped toward him that he was alone and that he was restrained to the examination bed. This would be an easy kill.

She raised her knife to end it all and stop his puppy-dog blue eyes from staring at her ever again. _For Agent One._

A horrified look entered his eyes as he saw her weapon.

Just then a violent cry and a brutal hit to the ribs sent her crashing into the wall. Next thing Angel knew, there was another female all over her, wrenching away the knife and hitting her in the face with her elbow.

Angel hadn't expected retaliation, or for a wild banshee to be attacking her over this male-waste-of-space! She tried to get her guard up, but she was on a very poor defense. Blow after blow, kick, punch, hard hit, shove, her attacker wouldn't let up.

Finally, Angel found herself being flung into the smoky hallway. Her knife was half-way between her and her female attacker, a brunette who was pulling a knife out of her back pocket, lethal intent in her eyes.

Almost growling, Angel realized that this bitch would have to be stopped by a bullet. And she hadn't brought one.

Leaving her knife, Angel darted away, not stopping to look back as she escaped.

* * *

><p>Kensi caught her breath, and tried to decide if she should chase after the assassin or stay put. Deeks wouldn't be able to defend himself if she left. And if she came back with a gun or reinforcements…<p>

Calming herself, Kensi quickly scooped up the woman's weapon from the floor. There were still small cries coming from down the hallways, and smoke had just gotten thick enough to trigger the fire-extinguishing system in the hallways. Water was raining down, adding a pittering noise to the mix of chaos and alarms.

_Do I get Deeks out, or do I stay here? _Kensi didn't know which was more dangerous, now.

"Fern?"

Marty's timid voice made her whirl around to see him. He was breathing hard, unshed tears in his eyes.

Kensi looked him over quickly to be sure that woman hadn't touched him. He looked okay… "Yeah?" She responded, glancing over her shoulder and then back, not convinced that the woman was completely gone.

"She was going to kill me." He said, upset.

Kensi met his eyes and pressed her lips together. Marty's eyes were telling her that he'd just been betrayed; the fear was liquid in his eyes. "Did you know her, Deeks?"

Marty looked miserable as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he replied quietly, "I don't know anymore."

Kensi bit her lip for a moment, then asked him carefully, softly, "Do you trust me now? Believe that I'm trying to keep you alive?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Good." Kensi breathed in out, relieved. Glancing behind her, again finding no one, she put the knife back in her pocket. She turned back to Deeks and began undoing the restraints keeping him bound. It was time to listen to her instincts. "We need to get to a safer location." She told him, not hesitating to untie him quickly. "Can you keep up with me?"

"I think so…" Marty said.

When she finished untying him, she held out her hand and helped him sit up and climb down off of the bed. Marty wobbled when he stood, and Kensi put out hands to settle him. He suddenly looked pale. "You good?" She asked.

Marty shook his head negatively as he took hold of one of her outstretched hands with his. "About to… barf… or pass out…"

Kensi's eyes filled with panic. "No. Not good. You've got to hang in there until I can get us down the hall!"

Deeks swallowed, slightly trembling, and gave her a cautious nod.

Kensi came closer to him and put her arm around his waist. "Come on. We've got to move."

Marty leaned into her and gave her another nod.

Begging that he not throw up on her, lest she be sick with him, she led them into the wet hallway, keeping her eyes peeled for the enemy.

* * *

><p>Dressed in green scrubs, the Pure Agent moved silently and without hesitation into Joy's cubical, knife drawn, at his side, looking briefly to the right and left for any sign of life. Finding no one with the unconscious girl, he came closer to do what he'd come to do. The sounds of chaos in the background would cover any sounds made here.<p>

Nate held his breath for the second it took him to move from the cubical opposite, to the middle of the hallway. He raised his gun in the next second and yelled, "Don't move!"

The tall Psychologist expected the shorter man to at least partially do what he'd commanded.

He was unprepared for the man to whirl around and throw the knife he held at him with force and deadly accuracy.

Reflexes working, even after the lack of sleep, Nate turned and the knife caught his off-arm, slicing through the lower portion of it, then hitting his lower left ribs. He surprised himself by not crying out and by keeping the gun up as he staggered backwards.

The attacker was already coming for him.

Nate pulled the trigger.

The shorter man was hit in the shoulder. He pulled back and reeled around, Nate saw, looking for something he could use as a weapon. He was headed for a pointy instrument along the wall.

An instrument that was too close to where Joy lay.

The hours that Nate had spent in training simulations provided by Hetty kicked in further. Nate fired again, hitting the man in the back.

Finally, the man sank down to the ground.

Nate didn't allow himself to believe that the man would stay down, so he further commanded, "Stay down!" He staggered a bit to the side, trying to look at the man's face.

Again, he was surprised as something small and metal, a container from the nearby supplies cart, was launched at his face with incredible accuracy. Nate stepped to the side, getting out of the way, but also losing his balance. In that off-balance moment, the fire sprinkler system activated in the hallway. When Nate trained his gun on the man again, he found the man had made it into the next cubical, leaving a stream of blood in his wake.

Nate gritted his teeth and moved into the cubical with Joy, torn between staying at her side and looking for the injured bad guy.

A strong throbbing in his arm and side caused him to look down quickly to assess the damage. All he saw was his own blood. "Not good." He whispered. He tightened his grip on his firearm and maneuvered his back against Joy's bed.

The sounds of a warzone— children crying, screams, alarms—filled his hearing. He needed backup. But he didn't dare reach for his phone until he could be certain they wouldn't return to kill Joy again.

A thought broke through his calculating of the situation.

_She was right again. _

Nate grimaced. This was entire situation would be fascinating later.

_If we survive._


	21. Defied

Chapter 21: Defied

4:10 AM

Just a hint of the element of surprise was all Callen needed. He just needed for the Pure operative that was coming to be thrown off _just for a second_. A moment. He could almost guarantee that he would survive if he at least had that on his side. The VIP room that he was in didn't offer a whole lot of cover. Very little, in fact. Crouching behind the bed was one option. Trying to make oneself flat against the wall was another option. But the only option that made any sense, was to hide behind the door. Behind the door was the best bet that the person coming in wouldn't be able to shoot him first. This would also give him enough time to figure out if it was in fact the bad guy or a good guy who was entering the room.

Callen's heart was racing.

It was all so surreal and harsh at once.

He waited against the wall and wondered if the screams coming from the halls were people getting killed because of him.

Hurt because of him.

He had never fully believed that Pure was going to come after them at the hospital. It had just been his exhausted, burned-out, injured guess that whoever was left of the Pure agents wasn't going to take this lying down.

He had seen the look in the eyes of the man who'd been in charge of Pure.

The same guy that had held a gun to his new Malen'kaya Sestra's head.

The strange energy flowing through his body was one Callen couldn't explain. He was shaking, yet he felt no pain, as if all the pain had dissolved with the energy that had come from the voice. Or, the dream. Callen knew what dreams felt like, so he wasn't completely sure that this had been a dream. The aftereffects were extremely different... Almost feeling more real than reality. But he didn't have time to think through all of it right now; he needed to survive whatever it was that was coming through that door.

And the door didn't wait to be disturbed either, with frightened screams still occurring out in the hallway, as well as the sound of smoke alarms going off, Callen heard the keypad beep, being touched, as someone accessed his room.

The door pushed open abruptly, and, with a cry, Callen heard a body fall into the doorway. It sounded like a female. Then, right after that, heavy footsteps entered the room.

Very heavy footsteps.

Callen knew he was in trouble the second he saw the arm and the gun. The Pure agent he had shot from before, the one the same size as Sam, came lumbering into the room, looking around intently.

In a split second, Callen registered that there was a body now holding the door open, and he was going to have to work fast and carefully, because this big guy was here to kill him.

Callen waited until the man obviously thought that he had been tricked by the nurse he had just knocked out, not seeing Callen on the examination bed. In that moment, G jumped forward and used every ounce of his strength to grab the man's arm and knock the back of his wrist bone against the door edge.

The big guy dropped the gun, and with a growl was rearing back to punch Callen in the face.

Callen had known it was coming, and was already moving out of the way when the man lunged at him, the big guy's fist missing his face by inches. G didn't hesitate to swing a punch at the place he had known he'd shot the guy. On contact, the big guy staggered into the room and away a little with a grunt.

G knew that the blow would anger the man into coming after him again to pound him into a literal pulp. He didn't have any weapons besides his body, so he was going to have to use what he had in the room. Callen moved backward towards the wall and the cabinet area where all kinds of first aid instruments still lay out.

The large man was coming after him as Callen found the only weapon-like thing he could: a pair of gauze scissors. The man reached for Callen, grabbed his arm, and moved quickly to punch him. Callen took the punch on the right side of his face while he got the scissors situated in his fist. He whirled around as the man tried to come in for another punch and only managed to score of glancing blow on Callen's shoulder; Callen dancing out of the way, moving closer to the door, going in between the examination bed and his attacker.

The man got ready to take Callen down again, and moved in menacingly.

G looked up at his attacker and allowed his blue eyes to become extremely fierce. The moment the man lunged for him again, Callen ducked into the man's near vicinity, bringing his fist up and across the man's face, attempting a near punch that would use the metal protruding from his fist to scratch the man's face. G saw blood on the man's cheek, but didn't stop as the man moved to grab him; Callen moved two ways in a hurry, kneeing the man in the solar plexus and dragging the metal tips against the man's neck as hard as he could.

The man released Callen to step back, hand coming up to feel the damage to his throat.

G stepped back as well, and found himself inches away from the wall. He wouldn't be able to step back again.

Just then, the words echoed in Callen's mind: **He will go left. You go right.**

With the words, came a clarity that Callen hadn't experienced during a fight. Ever. It was almost as if the fight had been slowed down to where he could see everything. He knew that the man was going to go left, and try to get at his weaker side. Callen knew that the only logical way to move was exactly what the voice had said.

When the man moved, bloody face and all, he _did_ move left, and Callen went right without hesitation, and went right out of the room, being careful not to trip over Nurse Kass, who lay unconscious on the wet floor, her prone body holding the door open at a forty-five degree angle.

Callen took a quick look around, gathering his new battlefield.

The hallway had people cowering at both ends, doctors and nurses alike not sure what to do. The fire sprinklers were going full blast, answering the smoke that was filling the top half of the hallway. It stung his eyes slightly. The screams were coming from the waiting room that was down the hall to the east. There was a faint gunfire sound happening, probably coming from another emergency room wing.

G's heart nearly froze.

He worried instantly that the sounds were the Pure agents firing on his Team. _If any of them died…_ Callen wrenched his focus back to the fight as he realized the hulk was coming through the door after him.

There was nearly a centimeter of water built up on the smooth floor. A nearby crash cart was the only thing he would be able to use as a weapon, unless he went down the hall to the nurses' desk. But there were nurses at the nurses' desk, and Callen didn't want to involve any more innocents.

_There's always another way…_

Callen made his decision.

He moved down the hallway, away from the exit, moving deeper towards the hospital, limping slightly, his gown and pajama pants becoming soaked in seconds. He didn't look back as he splashed through the wet passage. He just headed for the far end of the hallway, where he had caught sight of a janitor's yellow, roll-able bucket and mop abandoned in a doorway. Coming up on it, he took ahold of the sturdy mop handle, and quickly twisted off the mop head, leaving just a sturdy stick remaining.

G looked back towards the room he had been in and found the man was looking for his gun.

Callen gritted his teeth and headed back, now with the makeshift bowstaff in his hands. If the Pure agent found his gun, he would be in big trouble if he didn't get some backup. His training came flooding back as he brought the staff around to face his opponent. "Hey!" He yelled loudly, forcing the man to abandon his search for his gun.

The man drew up to his full Sam-like height and prepared to ward off Callen's attack.

And attack, Callen did.

He swung, feigned, pulled in and pulled out, the mysterious energy surge filling him. He landed blow after blow, pushing the man back towards the nurses' desk.

The big man worked to both block and get a hand on Callen.

G didn't let up, scoring several hits to the man's shoulders, ribs, and face.

Desperate, the hulk switched directions, moving into Callen's circle and stopping his next blow by catching his wrist.

G knew the big guy wanted to disarm him, so he dropped to the floor, tangling the pole between the bigger man's legs and pushed his arms away, pulling the man slightly off-balance, as he twisted and pulled more, until the big man struggled to hang on to him and take a step to balance himself. The bigger man quickly found himself unable to take a step, tripping, and plummeting toward the ground with a frustrated cry.

Callen tried to follow the man's collapse to the ground with gaining his feet and ability to pounce on him, but the man's leg hit his ribs, right above his side-wound, and the pain shocked G into a few precious, breathless moments. He was pleased he didn't cry out or pull away, but he knew he needed to _move_ and _simply couldn't_. The energy from before was still flowing through him, yet mixed with the sudden extreme pain, Callen shook as he untangled his wrist from the man's grasp.

The man reacted quicker than G had anticipated. He swung at Callen's face and caught him with a glancing punch.

G pulled away, tasting blood, but only managed to scoot a few feet away before the hulk was diving at him.

Callen stopped breathing as his body screamed at being slammed, side-first, onto the freezing, wet floor, the huge weight of the man smothering him instantly. Before he knew it, the man had him on his back, was straddling him, and was pulling back to punch him with all his might. G knew that the man would only have to punch him once before he fell nearly unconscious: he was _that_ injured. With or without the mysterious energy.

Sudden splashes sounded, and, before the man fully brought down his fist, another huge body slammed into the hulk, tackling him off Callen and pushing him beyond G's head.

Callen's sight blurred from the man's knee hitting his side. But then, the weight was gone. And all that was left were the sounds of a fight up by his head, and the water raining down.

G took a breath. Two. Three. Then he tried to lift himself up to help whoever had saved him. His vision swirled, then he blacked out.


	22. Mortality

Chapter 22: Mortality

4:20 AM

Hetty, hands clasped in front of her, stared at the screen with no small amount of guilt and anger coursing through her. She had never meant for this to happen. Attack on soil that was supposed to be a haven for the innocent. The hospital; it was smoking, signs of a struggle evident. This group, these people, _Pure_, they didn't have a conscience. They didn't have a soul.

_They don't play by the rules._ She thought to herself, mourning in a way that no one could understand. Angry in a way that no one else could possibly be.

She had been a part of it in the past; the endless cycle of people killing people. But, it was the past, and it hadn't brought about lasting solutions for her world, nor any true peace. That cycle _certainly_ didn't need to be happening again… These Pure operatives were no different than all the power-hungry, power-mad, power-greedy factions that fought during the Cold War. Playing a game of smoke and shadows, retribution and revenge. _Of control._ She repressed a shiver, a small glint of sadness entering her eyes for a split-second. She had tried to escape this... She had tried to become a simple ghost player in the far corner of the game. A remnant of a time long ago.

_I tried… But it doesn't matter how far to the corner I go, does it?_ She thought bitterly. _The evil is out there, and they don't care if there are innocents or not. They will do what they want, and plot against an undeserving, unaware public._

The screen in front of her showed amateur media coverage that was just beginning to gather at Covenant hospital. Luckily, the LAPD had beat them there. This was an ugly, dire mess.

Her team was in there. Had they survived Pure's attack?

She didn't know, but it was time for drastic action, for drastic action had been taken against them. She didn't know nearly enough about Pure to attack back, but she did know a thing or two about retreating. Something she and her Team Leader firmly believed in using _only_ when the situation necessitated it.

And necessitated it, it did.

The thought rippled through her: _what if Callen is dead?_

Hetty found herself holding her breath, her heart thumping wildly within her.

_No. _

She wouldn't allow herself to think like this. Callen was alive.

_He has to be. _

And, so were all the others. She swallowed, pressing her lips together.

There was still time, and she could play this retreat game better than anyone she knew.

Nell was standing next to her, watching. The petite redhead had her handheld computer in her hands, ready for action. Hetty gathered that Nell was staying calm to assist _her_, and she appreciated that. She had incredible future plans for Nell, but they simply couldn't be if Nell was any sort of a panicker.

Hetty turned to look at Nell. "Miss Jones, if you would please, have one of the techs intercept Mr. Beale's ambulance and direct it instead to St. Mary's. Have him treated by Dr. Alan Carr. Alert Officer Thomas. I need him to guard Eric until I have more orders."

Nell nodded, eyes focused on Hetty's. She was ready to start doing something. Her posture screamed it. Her worry was prepared to be stifled by action.

That's why Hetty didn't hesitate in adding, "Miss Jones, activate Mortality Protocol."

Nell's eyes became large. Her voice caught as she echoed, "'Mortality Protocol'?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I'm left with no alternative. We have been bested at a time when we should have been safe. I don't want to surrender any more ground to these Pure operatives, but, for now, retreat is the best option. You know where to find me." Hetty turned and headed for the door leading out of Ops. She had a lot to get done, and very little time in which to do it. She could almost hear Nell nodding and turning to the big screen, hand already flying over her handheld computer.

* * *

><p>It had been nearly twenty minutes of watching, listening, waiting, and bleeding.<p>

The screams had died down to nothing, leaving an eerie silence, between adult voices in the distance, drowned out by the constant sprinkling of water. Nate didn't doubt that the LAPD had arrived.

Somewhere.

He was glad, but also apprehensive. When they got through the door, they were going to want to know who he was and why he had a gun. He was too tired to move. He would holster the gun when he heard them coming. LAPD always announced themselves properly and came in packs. He'd have time.

_Do I even have my credentials?... I didn't leave them, did I?… What was I taught to say?_

It was getting hard to think clearly.

Exhaling hard, Nate glanced down at his arm and waist. His blood was everywhere. He had managed to use his suit jacket to stop the bleeding on his arm, but his torso wound? Still going. It was probably why he had the buzzing feeling at the base of his skull. That static could potentially knock him out if he ignored the blood loss for long enough.

Joy was still unconscious.

Nate had pressed his back against the end of her examination bed. Not the best vantage point, but a workable one.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming fast, splashing down the hallway. And they weren't stopping. They were moving with intent.

Nate was bringing up his gun when the person tried to stop at Joy's cubical and slipped on the water, sliding down and past. Nate stared at the young doctor that nearly cussed, but instead turned the words into frustrated sounds.

As the man got up, he took in Nate and the gun. His eyes grew wide and he paused before coming all the way up to a full standing position.

Nate lowered his weapon, feeling that this doctor was simply trying to get to Joy.

His guess was correct when the doctor asked, "Where's Agent Hanna?"

"I'm not sure." Nate answered, his voice sounding worn-out to himself. "Who are you?"

"Dr. Waters." The man said, slowly coming to stand at his full height. "I'm tasked with this girl's care… Who are you?"

"Nate Getz."

He had heard this doctor mentioned before. He was one of Hetty's three, special doctors kept on retainer at this hospital. Well, 'special' meaning they were allowed to touch Hetty's Special Agents. She didn't trust just anyone.

The man looked pointedly at Nate's arm and side. "You're bleeding…"

"I am." Nate agreed quietly.

"You're bleeding a lot." Dr. Waters seemed to completely forget that Nate had a gun. He came closer, focusing on the wound. "Were you shot?"

"Knife wound."

Dr. Waters quickly pulled a pair of medical gloves from the container on the wall. As he put them on, he glanced at Joy and took in her resting state. He satisfied himself that she was fine for the moment and returned to Nate's side. "You are one of Miss Lange's? Are you an Agent?" He asked as he started examining the taller man's wounds.

"Yes. And, it depends on the day." Nate answered truthfully. "I'm a doctor, a psychologist, first. This type of thing," Nate raised his arm slightly. "has started becoming the norm, though… Is the LAPD here?"

Dr. Waters moved to get items from the disheveled cart near Joy's bed. "Yes, they are. In the waiting room. They'll be here in moments. Were the shooters in here?"

"One attacked us. Knife. No gun."

The Doctor returned to Nate, and started quick first aid. He spoke lowly, "We have standing orders to hide any of Miss Lange's team that are here in the aftermath of an attack. I don't know how the others fared, but Dr. Kyle, Nurse Erika, and Dr. Rodgers will be doing their best to get whoever remains to the designated safe area. It'd be best if we can get moving before LAPD get here… Good news is, even if the LAPD stops us, I have all the safe codes."

Nate nodded, slightly relieved. His heart was slowing down as he watched Dr. Waters move quickly.

"Not to be a downer," Dr. Waters muttered, "but you are definitely going to need stitches. This is a serious wound."

"Once Joy's safe." Nate told him.

Dr. Waters finished in the next ten seconds. "These will get wet in the hallway, but I'll redo them in the safe area. We gotta move."

Nate reestablished his grip on his gun as Dr. Waters released the brakes on Joy's examination bed.

The Doctor raised the blankets to cover the teenager's head, then pulled on the bed, getting it to move with him.

Dr. Waters pointed to Nate which direction they were headed and Nate stepped into the wet hallway, checking for enemies.

Nate hoped they could make it to the safe area without any trouble.

* * *

><p>Kensi was breathing hard, studying the situation.<p>

_Well, this is new…_

She had managed to get Deeks into a far, remote hallway of the Emergency Room when he had been unable to go any farther. She'd just barely managed to find a dark, dry room and a trash can for him to vomit into, and, after the exercise, he'd seemed disoriented and in even more pain.

Kensi had crouched on the floor, in the low light, beside him and placed a comforting hand on his back, both watching for enemies and trying to assure Marty that it would be okay.

He had been still for several long, agony-filled seconds, then he had looked up at her. When he had, Kensi almost forgot about the enemies that were hunting for them. Almost.

Deeks' blue eyes were filled with tears, exhaustion, and desperation.

It was the most vulnerable, honest stare her partner had ever given her. It instantly had her trying to find a way to fix it. She had whispered questions to him, trying to figure out what was hurting him and how bad. Marty was with it enough to let her know that it was his head and his arm. She then had promised him to get him some pain relief.

He hadn't waited for her to move. Instead, he'd shakily taken her hand and brought it to his forehead, breathing out in relief at the cool.

Kensi had gotten the hint and put her weapon down, then placed her other hand on his face. Deeks' eyes had closed in relief and he had literally melted onto her: going from a sitting-on-knees position to slumping over onto her legs.

Kensi had barely managed to keep herself upright under his sudden weight, but, speaking nonsensical, quieting words to the blonde, sat down beneath him and tried to steady him.

Deeks, disoriented and hurting, had simply brought a hand up to touch her leg as his head ended up in her lap, his body shivering on the floor.

Then, he was still. Breathing hard. Eyes screwed shut. Scared. Vulnerable. Trying to weather the headache of his life.

Kensi repositioned her hands face. "It's okay, Deeks… I got you." She found herself whispering, thinking to herself, _Is this my fault? _

She watched him, keeping an eye on the cracked doorway, swallowing away the guilt and amazement over how crazy this situation was, and reminded herself to go with the flow. She had to protect her partner. Eventually, they would have to move again. But, with everything going on, she wasn't sure if waiting for the authorities was the best idea, or if she should try to get ahold of Hetty for orders.

Kensi was snapped back to reality when she heard approaching footsteps that seemed to be going from room to room frantically.

Kensi apologized in a whisper to Marty, "Sorry. Stay put."

Marty's eyes parted blearily, and he caught his head as she slipped out from beneath him.

The female agent picked up the knife and quickly moved to the wall behind the cracked door.

Kensi waited.

The footsteps came closer.

Finally, they stopped at their door…

Kensi listened as whoever it was pushed open the room door and peered in.

She heard the person gasp, then a female voice exclaimed, _"Detective Deeks!"_

Kensi realized she knew the voice, and instead of attacking the woman who rushed in to Deeks' side, she stepped away from the door and addressed her, "Erika, has LAPD arrived?"

Erika jumped, turned, and relaxed when she realized that it was Kensi. She nodded quickly. "I heard their sirens… And the shooting has stopped. I've been looking for you two all over!"

Kensi nodded and returned to Marty's other side. The blonde wasn't moving. Content to remain still on the cool floor. His forehead was tense, a clear sign of the atrocious headache he was battling. It was obvious he just wanted to be left alone to suffer in silence. His blue eyes blinked at the nurse with an utter weariness.

Nurse Erika checked his wounded shoulder and started checking his pulse. She asked Kensi quietly, "Did he vomit?"

"Oh yeah." Kensi replied, keeping her volume down. "His head is killing him right now."

"We need to get you and the Detective to the safe area." Erika said sympathetically. "Dr. Rodger's orders. We can get him comfortable once we get there."

Kensi looked down at Deeks and they met eyes. She hated to move him again, but it had to happen.

Suddenly, Marty was reaching out a shaky hand to grip the back of hers.

Kensi glanced at his hand and then looked back at him.

He whispered thickly, "Don't leave me… Please." His eyes showed his fearful exhaustion. He wasn't following everything that was happening well. Kensi hoped desperately that his concussion wasn't getting worse.

"I won't leave you, Deeks." She told him firmly, yet gently. "I'm your partner."

* * *

><p>The light breeze pushed some of her black hair into her brown eyes as she quietly cleaned the pool.<p>

The pool had a few stray leaves floating on top of the silky water. She skimmed the large net daintily from leaf to leaf, keeping a tight hold on the pole that was entirely too big to be a simple pool-cleaning device.

The only illumination came from the back porch light and the dual lights inside the deep end of the pool. It was barely enough to gleam off of her exotic, light-colored skin.

Her belief was, California was hot during the daytime, so early morning was a much more productive time to deal with waters of this type. It wasn't as if she had nothing to do inside the house during the hottest time of day, anyway.

The silence of morning at four-thirty was a beautiful thing to behold, besides. And, if one looked carefully, the stars could be seen.

Just then, a small harp sound came from her jeans' pocket.

Not startled, but slightly surprised, she set down the pool net down beside the pool and retrieved her cell phone. The name on the screen actually _did_ startle her. She had not expected to hear from Hetty Lange.

Her heart began to beat faster as she answered. "Co'lee?"

"Dominitra, sou'vé." Hetty replied using her secret password. She sounded focused. Reason to start worrying. "Terentia, is everything in order?"

"As always." Terentia replied with a glance at the pool. "How can I serve you?"

"I need you to come out of hiding."

Terentia blinked, staring out into the dark early morning, processing what she meant. "As me, or as you?"

"As both, I'm afraid." Hetty responded, a dark undertone to her voice.

Terentia straightened, the breeze moving her hair away from her face. "I'm yours to command."


	23. Stay

Chapter 23: Stay

5:30 AM

_It was dark in the hospital._

_He could hear himself breathing hard as he struggled to sit up. _

_Sam was sitting above him with a concerned look on his face. _

_Callen wanted to reassure him that he was okay, that he'd be fine, but his limbs, torso, back, and head were killing him. _

_The throbbing in his head was a huge drum of bass, thumping low again and again._

_He finally struggled into the seated position, slightly surprised that his partner wasn't forcing him to be still. _

_Callen swallowed drily and worked to look at Sam._

_Sam put a steadying hand on his shoulder. _

_It hurt. _

_The silence that came from Sam next puzzled Callen. Had they beaten the bad guys? _

_G took a moment to remember all that had happened. He quickly recalled Pure, the memory-wiping, their kidnapping Deeks and Kensi, their torturing Joy, his going rouge, and the attack from Pure. _

Pure_._

_Callen took in where he was: a hospital hallway that had no one in sight. He could hear people calling to one another frantically from far down the halls, beyond what he could see. Probably doctors and nurses trying to get a handle on the situation. The lights being so low was a good indicator that a lot of the hospital was in duress. _

_G raised his eyes to meet Sam's. "Did we get them?"_

_Sam pressed his lips together and then slowly gave him a nod, his gaze clearly indicating that there was more to the story._

"_What?" Callen asked, knowing that his partner wouldn't say more until he asked._

_Sam's eyes became slightly watery. He exhaled, looked away, and tightened his grip on G's shoulder. _

_Callen felt his heart beat faster as possible reasons for Sam's holding back surfaced. _

No.

_Sam finally looked back and spoke to him softly, "The others, G… Pure got to all of them—"_

_Callen wasn't ready to hear this. Process this. Wasn't ready for it to be now. He cut Sam off verbally, "No."_

_Sam continued, saying what needed to be said, "Kensi and Deeks were caught unaware… No guns… It was quick and dirty—"_

_G pulled away from Sam as much as he could, shaking his head. "NO!" The devastation was quickly taking logical thought with it. _

_This was his fault. _

_His fault, and his fault alone. _

"—_The kid, too… G, I'm sorry." Sam looked down sorrowfully._

_Everything inside of G Callen seized, trying frantically to find a handhold as he fell down into the darkness inside himself. Sorrow, anger, desperation, bargaining, pain, and anguish took over his senses._

_He'd been the one to ask Hetty to use Joy as bait.  
>He'd been the one to formulate the plan to capture Pure in the act.<br>He'd been the one who decided to go after her, Deeks, and Kensi.  
>He'd been the one who'd left a few Pure agents alive…<em>

_Him._

_No one else._

_Callen's chest hurt, begging him to take another breath of air. _

_But, he knew. The next breath of air would make a pain-filled sound, and the next would begin the tears._

_Because the only ones he ever mourned were his family._

_And Pure had killed his family._

_Kensi._

_Deeks._

_Did Joy even count?_

_He had wanted her to._

_Now, she'd never have the opportunity to consent…_

_She was dead._

_They were dead._

_Gone._

_Forever._

_Callen turned away from Sam and tried to move away. He needed space. _

_Sam's strong hands repositioned to find his upper arm and far shoulder, restraining him from moving away._

_Callen wanted to tell Sam to let him go, but he couldn't._

_The words were stuck in his dying heart. _

_G settled for pulling away harder._

_Sam moved closer, tightening his grip._

_Callen turned back and used a weak arm to try to push Sam away._

_Sam countered, batting his hand away, then taking ahold of both of his shoulders._

_Callen felt the tears begin falling, and brought his other hand up to push away from Sam's chest, resisting with what was left of his strength, unable to verbally make Sam stop._

_Sam brought his head closer to Callen's. "Stop." He commanded, sounding slightly strangled. "Stop fighting me, G."_

_Callen shook his head and pushed away harder, wanting to part his lips and tell his partner to leave him the hell alone, but he couldn't even move his clenched jaw._

"_G, just be still for a minute! You're injured!" _

_Callen's strength finally mounted a last attempt to get free. He twisted away from Sam, using his elbow to hit Sam's closest arm. _

_He knew he'd hit bone, because Sam was forced to let go with one hand._

"_G!" _

_When hands tried again to get him to stop moving, he fought back harder._

* * *

><p>Callen was suddenly filled with life, fighting Sam and Dr. Rodgers as they worked to keep him from falling off of the rolling stretcher they had him on. There was no one else in the tucked-away room that they were using to get the injured agent stable for transit to the safe room. There were plans to get Callen out of the wet pajama pants and gown, but they hadn't been enacted yet. His legs were secured by the stretcher's black safety straps as a precautionary measure, but because his waist and arm were injured, no other restraints were in place.<p>

"G!" Sam cried, as his partner flailed an arm, nearly missing hitting Dr. Rodgers in the face. His partner's eyes weren't even open as he grunted and twisted away. Sam leaned over his partner and allowed his mass to press down on Callen's injured arm and reach across to his left side to grab at his arm, trying to get them under control.

G, disoriented, fought back, breathing hard.

"G, calm _down_! It's me! Sam! _Calm… Down…_"

Dr. Rodgers, seeing that the bigger agent's words were having some effect, as Callen was slowing his movements, took that moment to dart out of the room. "Be right back, Agent Hanna." He called over his shoulder.

Sam found himself partially laying on his partner when Callen opened his bleary eyes weakly. Sam had his stomach holding Callen's right arm pinned down, his left arm making a bar beneath Callen's neck keeping pressure on Callen's upper chest, and his right hand hanging on to Callen's left wrist, awkwardly keeping it from causing more damage to Callen's re-opened side wound.

Callen's breathing wasn't slowing even slightly as he took in Sam's face so close to his. There were the barest hints of tears forming in Callen's eyes.

Sam repeated himself firmly, not certain if Callen had returned to him or if he was in shock. "Calm down, G. I'm right here. I need to you calm… down…"

G breathed out a haunted, single word filled with accusing. "Joy?"

Sam instantly felt guilty. His partner knew exactly what he was asking. And, Callen saw the understanding in his eyes.

"You're here, Sam." Callen continued, almost venomously. Sam heard the unspoken words that Callen wanted to say: _You're not with her._

"G—"

"_Promised_?" Callen breathed out as he moved to get free from Sam's hold. "You _left_ her!"

"G, calm _down_—" Sam struggled to hang on to his partner. Callen was going to make his bleeding side worse.

"Let me _go_."

G was suddenly pushing, twisting, and fighting against his bigger partner. Sam was surprised that Callen had the strength to resist like this, especially after how one-sided the fight between Callen and the Pure agent had looked. Sam slowly realized that G wasn't thinking clearly. Callen was upset he'd left Joy, he understood that. But, why G was fighting him was a mystery. Callen didn't view him as the enemy, he'd just said his name. _But why?_

Just then, Dr. Rodgers returned to the room. He was carrying several items, which he put on the closest countertop. He came to Callen's side, opposite of Sam, with an alcohol swab and an injection.

Sam saw it and gritted his teeth. With him and G grappling, he suspected that G wouldn't realize what was going on until it was too late. G was going to be furious. He hated being sedated…

The doctor didn't hesitate to gain position near Callen's upper arm. He told Sam quietly, "Try to get this arm still."

Sam moved immediately to pull his partner's left arm across his body. Sam lowered his chest further to hold Callen down. Callen didn't care for the further restricted movement, and he moved around harder, using whatever strength he could find to resist, breathing hard, grunting, and letting small struggling sounds slip.

Dr. Rodgers, himself, used his off arm to press Callen's shoulder down onto the stretcher. Then he quickly sanitized Callen's upper arm, uncapped the small injection, and administered it.

G's eyes became alarmed the moment he felt the shot, and he turned, trying to see what was being given to him. In the next moment, he was back to being upset, anger being the strength behind the following attempts to get free of his partner and the doctor.

Sam grimaced as he bruised his partner as he held on, letting the doctor finish the injection, knowing this was for Callen's own good. Earlier, when he had seen the huge Pure operative straddling his partner, about to pound him, Sam's heart had stopped as he raced forward to tackle the man away from G. He had tried to keep an eye on his partner as he'd dispatched the baddie, but every time he'd glanced in G's direction, his partner had been unmoving, still, silent, not even looking as if he was breathing. Sam had rushed to knock out the Pure agent and get to Callen's side. He had not left Callen's side since, even when the LAPD had arrived on the scene and taken the big, unconscious man away. Sam wondered if the attack was what had Callen so riled.

Dr. Rodgers finished, removing the needle from G's arm, but stayed in position pressing Callen's shoulder onto the stretcher. The older man met eyes with Sam and nodded, communicating that this was necessary.

Within the next several minutes, Callen blinked hard, his breath catching, a confused look entering his eyes. And another minute later, G became completely still, sinking down, every muscle relaxed.

Dr. Rodgers released G, with a satisfied look on his aged face. He motioned that Sam could let go.

Sam did, slowly.

"What did you give him?" Sam asked quietly, afraid to disturb how peaceful and still his partner had become.

"A big dose of Ortelloex. An anti-anxiety medication." Dr. Rodger's said, pulling his stethoscope out of his white coat pocket and putting it on so he could listen to Callen's heart and breathing. "I figured it would be of the most help since he's had pain medication recently."

Sam watched his partner's blue eyes blink slowly, then track around the ceiling, as if he was seeing everything for the first time. The relaxation in his eyes and on his calm face proved that G was already reaping the benefits of the drugs, but, Sam wondered, what of the negatives? Sam felt the worry grow inside him. In the middle of this bedlam was not the time nor place for a reaction to medication. Dr. Rodgers already knew that G had bad hallucinations with anything Codeine-based. And, that most sedatives caused Callen to have nightmares. What if this drug did something as equally cruel to his partner? Sam frowned. He didn't like it.

As if reading his mind, the doctor said, "Agent Hanna, we need to get him out of these wet clothes. He shouldn't have any reactions to this medication, but he _will_ experience the normal side-effects. And those are shivers and cold sensations."

Sam straightened and gave the Doctor a look. "'Cold' as in the flu?"

"'Cold' as in perceived and possible temperature drops." Dr. Rodgers smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "He will be grateful if we get him dry and under blankets in the next twenty minutes. We also need to check his side wound. I see substantial bleeding under the bandages."

Sam slowly inhaled and exhaled. He needed to take care of G first. Then, he could be free to find out what had happened to Kensi and Deeks, Nate and Joy. When Callen was thinking clearly, he would be asking again. He'd have answers ready for him. And explanations. And, hopefully, no deaths to report…

* * *

><p>Callen was too relaxed to truly understand what was going on around him.<p>

The sensations that the latest drugs had brought were strong lightheadedness and a un-overcome-able feeling of "everything is okay" and "I need sleep."

He wanted to be resistant to both sensations, but he couldn't bring himself to. After losing complete track of time and partially falling asleep twice, he stopped trying as hard and just focused on keeping his eyes open.

The other problem? He was getting distracted. Loopy. Not remembering. Why was he here?

Everything was alright now, but it wasn't earlier, right? He couldn't pin down logical thoughts at all. The meds were thwarting him big time. He should be mad at them. He tried to conjure up upset feelings that resembled mad, but nearly smiled at how he couldn't.

_This is bad. _

_But amusing._

_Maybe._

_Kinda…_

_What?_

Callen heard Dr. Rodgers and Sam speaking above him. About him. But, he couldn't focus on the words. The words weren't interesting enough to make sense of them.

He closed his eyes.

Sam would keep fussing over him until he rested, anyway.

_What did I do, again?_

_And why is it so cold in here?_

Callen opened his eyes to find the ceiling moving. Quickly. Quickly passing by. It was still cold.

_Wait…_

_Am I moving?_

G focused on Sam, who was at his side. Sam definitely looked like he was moving… Walking. Strutting.

He wanted to ask where they were headed, but it was too complicated. He'd wait and see where Sam was taking him.

He blinked slowly. Callen realized that it felt good. It felt really good to close his eyes. His eyes kinda burned, but when he'd shut them, they'd felt better. It was relaxing…

Eyes closed, Callen didn't think anymore. He just _felt_.

A slight dizzy feeling that wouldn't go away. Waves of calm. Heart beating in a comforting way, not fast. Cold was creeping in. He was beginning to shiver uncontrollably. Uncaring, for once, he moved his head looking for warmth on the sheets beneath him. It was okay; the cold would go away, or it wouldn't, and it didn't matter either way. The air was quiet. Sam's voice was even quieter. It thrummed in the back of his mind like a safe place.

Dizzy. More dizzy.

Callen squinted open his eyes, trying to get some sort of bearing.

They were taking him into a room. The turns were making his head swim.

He closed his eyes again, hoping he wouldn't get motion sick.

Time passed, and he lost the ability to know how long. There were people. Other people. Other voices. But, they were hushed now. He couldn't remember if they'd been loud earlier.

_Sam won't let…_

_Near me…_

_Safe._

G shivered, then he relaxed. The dark felt safe.

Someone was touching him suddenly. Rearranging his arms, listening to his heart, touching his wrist.

Callen struggled to open his eyes to see who it was, but he couldn't. His eyelids were too heavy.

A new sensation started at his feet and legs, and moved to his waist… He realized when it was at his neck what it was.

He was being covered with heavy blankets.

It felt good, too.

_Warm…_

G finally found the energy to open his eyes partially to see who had given him the gift of no longer shivering.

Sam was standing above him by his waist, one large hand resting on G's chest, his head facing away from G, as if speaking with someone across the room. Callen watching the Big Guy for a while. Sam seemed at ease. Everything was okay.

_Right?_

G moved his eyes to see what was available to him to see.

His eyes fell on a tall bed that held…

_Bagel? No, real name... Joy?_

He stared longer, barely blinking, making sure he was correct. Finally, he decided, he was. It was the brown-haired girl that had taken a bullet for him… a long time ago. He knew he had saved her recently, but he couldn't remember exactly how. Or, where. Or, when…

The girl was sleeping. She looked comfortable and safe.

G felt his lips form a small smile.

Another wave of tiredness hit him.

He just needed to close his eyes for a bit.

He succumbed to the warm darkness quickly.

* * *

><p>Deeks focused on breathing. In and out. And not vomiting. His head was a raging headache the size of California itself. Fern and the nurse had promised to find him some pain relief, and they'd given him some pills to swallow, and he had, but that had been twenty minutes ago. He was now convinced that this headache wouldn't ever go away.<p>

Since they had made it to the "safe location," the nurse and Fern had tried to make him comfortable. He hadn't meant to be difficult, but he didn't want Fern leaving his side for a moment. She had saved him, proving that she truly cared about his welfare. He didn't want to stop touching her arm. And it had made getting him situated on an examination bed nearly impossible. He didn't care, and Fern hadn't forced him to let go of her. Finally, she and the nurse had decided that Fern should sit on the bed next to him. She had easy access to the basin, in case he vomited again, and she was able to cool his forehead with her hands, or let him cling to her.

And that's what he was doing now.

Clinging to her.

His back was to the wall on the far side of the room, and she sat between him and the door. His head rested beside her, partially on a pillow. His hands curled up, one beneath her leg, hand grasping her jeans by what slack he could find, and his other hand holding her wrist, her hand comfortingly resting on his mid-arm.

Fern was staying calm for him, he could tell. His misery was threatening all of his boundaries of manhood, and she seemed to understand. She was intent on keeping him safe and letting him catch his breath.

Every time someone new entered the room, she would tense, and, upon recognizing the person, would relax. Marty would open his eyes, internally freak out that he didn't recognize anyone, then close his eyes and tighten his grip on her. She would bring her free hand over to touch his face, sharing her calm and cold hands. As sounds would continue around them, he would ignore them, focusing on how she cut through the pain some.

The first nurse had welcomed a doctor to the room, with a tall, bandaged man who walked in, gun drawn, and a teenage girl in a rolling bed. The tall man had smiled ruefully at Fern before holstering his gun and helping them get the girl's bed along the opposite wall. Fern had spoken quietly with the doctor and the tall man, but she hadn't moved. Deeks had been relieved. He hadn't wanted his make-shift anchor going anywhere.

The doctor and nurse had worked on the tall man's wounds, leaving and returning several times, and, once done with him, came to fuss over Marty. He'd managed okay as they checked his pulse and eyes, but then they'd tried to get him to sit up. He had gagged, but managed to not throw up the pills in his stomach. They'd left him alone after that, telling Fern to keep him calm.

He'd just held onto her.

And breathed.

Evenly.

The door to the room opened again.

Fern tensed.

Deeks opened his eyes.

It was another doctor, another rolling bed thing with someone on it, and a big guy that Marty recognized.

The one that had been with Fern earlier.

She was talking louder than earlier now, her tenseness hadn't gone away. "Sam! Is Callen okay?"

The big man stayed with the rolling bed until it was against the other wall, just like the teenage girl's bed. He looked over at them and answered simply, "For right now. You two okay?"

Fern relaxed a little. "Yeah. Pure sent an assassin to attack Deeks, but I stopped her. Still just dealing with a concussion and memory loss."

Marty gritted his teeth, swallowing weakly. He still didn't remember. Anything. Fern seemed to care about that… Like Angel and Agent One had seemed to. Was she more trustworthy than they'd turned out to be? It made him sick to wonder about it. He just wanted to trust her. He felt so lost.

The bigger man, Sam, had asked the tall man how he was, and then the two of them and Fern had talked more about the attack, and what their next move was.

During the discussion, Sam had received three, pre-warmed blankets from the grey-haired doctor, and took a few moments to cover the person on the rolling bed he was next to.

That was when Deeks finally saw who it was.

_That man attacked and killed all of them… He's the one._

Flashbacks of creeping through the dark building came back.

Dead bodies everywhere.

Blood.

The sound of a female screaming echoed through his thoughts.

Deeks sucked in a hitching breath and held it, closing his eyes tight.

He couldn't find Agent One or Angel.

They'd told him he needed to rest. Stay put.

But he'd left to find who was screaming.

Then, Fern, who was armed.

Then, that man, who was unarmed.

A fight of two-against-one.

A strangled whimper filled his ears as he tried to work out if he was wrong.

_Can I trust Fern?_

"Deeks?" Her voice. "Deeks, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Her hands were trying to comfort him, but she was climbing off the bed.

_Away from him._

Marty chose in an instant, and tightened his grip on her, halting her movement.

Eyes still closed, he begged through sticky lips, "Please."

Everything was quiet and still for a moment, then she asked, "What, Deeks?"

"Don't." He whispered, unable to open his eyes. "Stay. Please stay…"

To his relief, she responded by moving gently back into the space she had been sitting in, and then a little closer. She began stroking his hair off of his forehead.

It felt marvelous.

"Calm down, Deeks. I'm staying."


	24. Maskelyne

Chapter 24: Maskelyne

6:03 AM

Things had finally calmed down in the large safe room. Sam stood silently next to his unconscious partner. Kensi sat calmly on Deek's hospital bed, her back against the headboard, her hand playing with Deeks' hair. Deeks would doze for a few moments and then open his eyes, and then go back to dozing. Nate watched this all unfold from where he rested, sitting on the single chair in the room. The doctors had given the Psychologist pain meds, and they were beginning to work beautifully. He hadn't hesitated to turn over his weapon to Sam, who was the only one of the batch mostly-unharmed. Joy was still sleeping soundly. The poor kid had been drugged well by the physicians.

The physicians, themselves, had been running interference as they worked to locate one of their own. Dr. James Kyle hadn't come back to being a part of the group. They were all slightly worried that something had happened to him. There was less chaos now that LAPD was on-site and attempting to figure out who the shooters were.

Nate broke the silence with a low tone, "Shouldn't we check in with Hetty, Sam?"

Sam nodded, glancing at Callen, before pulling his cell phone out of his back pocket. He began to unlock his phone when the screen went blank. "Damn." He muttered under his breath. He tried to power on and off the phone.

"What?" Nate asked him.

Sam pressed his lips together and shook his head once, before putting the phone back in his pocket. "It's dead. No charge."

Nate raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Ah."

Kensi, voice soft, offered, "I could go find a phone somewhere and call in to the office to get orders."

"Uh," Nate tilted his chin down and gave Kensi a small look of sympathy. "You just told someone you'd stay…"

Kensi looked down at Deeks who was resting, eyes-closed, next to her.

Sam agreed tiredly. "Yeah, Kenz. Don't move. Keep him calm. While we're together, we're safe. Hetty will know how to get a message to us when she's ready."

"And she's ready now." Hetty's voice filled the room.

Sam, Nate, and Kensi turned to look at the doorway, expecting to see their boss. They were surprised to find a woman, probably in her thirties, just a few inches taller than Henrietta Lange, standing in the doorway. The woman had soft, exotic features, black hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a navy slacks and blazer suit, with a silk, cream shirt underneath. Her eyes were framed with glasses that looked oddly like their boss', and, she held herself in a similar manner to Hetty.

They stared for a moment, taking her in, and the woman took that moment to fully enter the room and close the door behind her. Her movements were so much like watching Hetty that even Nate was at a loss of what to make of what he was seeing.

The woman turned back and glanced around the room. "Henrietta Lange sent me to get all of you safely from this location, to another, more private, location." Her voice sounded less like Hetty's now. She looked directly at Sam. "Agent Hanna, I am Hetty's shadow. I don't exist, and I never come out of hiding unless summoned. That said, she called me this morning and gave me my orders. She said you would be suspicious of me until I told you her code word: _Maskelyne._"

Sam and Nate shared a look. Only Hetty would know that reference. And, as predicted, their suspicions were lowering in intensity as soon as she said the code word. Sam glanced at Kensi, who met his eyes, and he looked back at the woman.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, putting forth the front that he still didn't trust her.

The woman raised her eyebrows and answered, "I don't exist, but since you will undoubtedly insist on calling me something, my name is Terentia."

Nate, intrigued, inquired, "Are you one of Hetty's agents?"

She blinked her dark eyes. "Like you, Dr. Getz? No. I am privileged with much more and burdened with heavier matters than any of her agents."

Nate thought for a moment before asking, "You are bound to her?"

Terentia's lip corner twitched, as if fighting amusement. "You are most perceptive, Psychologist. Or, should I blame that on the drugs?"

Nate tiredly smiled at her.

Kensi asked, "She summoned you? Because of Pure?"

"Because of her Team, her Leanaí… She is handling Pure. I am to handle you each, protect you each, hide you each, on her behalf, until she returns. She has enacted Mortality Protocol at NCIS OSP."

Sam, Nate, and Kensi looked at each other quizzically.

Terentia explained, "She has reduced your office to bare operations, doing her best to throw Pure off your scent as she gathers her options. Ms. Lange will be briefing you when she deems it's safe."

Sam glanced back at G, glad to see he was still unconscious, but wishing that G were able to help him to discern this woman's intentions. She appeared to be everything that she had said, but that never meant much, and G had always been a touch better at judging a person's character. Sam looked back to the woman. He hoped that this wouldn't prove to be the time his personal judgment failed. "What's the plan?"

Terentia nodded slowly, her voice suddenly sounding exactly like Hetty's. "Very good, Mr. Hanna. I promise, I will not fail you."

"How are you doing that?" Kensi asked, fascinated.

Terentia said, "Practice. Lots of practice."

Nate frowned. "It's scary." Terentia looked in his direction with a raised eyebrow and he hurried to revise his statement. "Scary-accurate. Accurate. Not scary. You know… Um… Drugs."

Terentia spared him by returning her dark gaze to Sam. "The plan, Mr. Hanna, is to get the whole kit and caboodle to the safe location. The one I have been keeping ready for years."

"A safe house?" Sam asked.

"Not exactly. More like a safe complex disguised as a safe house."

"How do we get there?" Kensi asked, glancing worriedly down at Deeks, who was opening his eyes again.

Terentia lifted a hand to gesture to the three in the beds. "I intend to use drugs, body bags and uniforms to get us out. There will be a vehicle change in a camera-free zone, and we should be, as they say, home free."

Sam frowned. "You're not putting G in a body bag. No way."

The woman stayed silent, then walked slowly over to the foot of Callen's bed, Sam watching her. She scrutinized the drugged Special Agent, before training her eyes on Sam. "Mr. Hanna, I understand your concerns. If you will cooperate with me, I can personally guarantee that your partner will awaken safe and comfortable. Will you work with me?"

Sam took a few moments, exhaled, then gave her a slight nod. He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

* * *

><p>[Authoress' Note: Terribly short after a terrible delay- I'M SORRY! I hope to have you more soon. Thank you for not yelling at me. *hugs*]<p> 


End file.
